Long, sky-like hours drag by
Stars are but all I want to buy
Stars only
Shops ought to be closed, this time of the night
From my window, all I take is their distant light
Shinnin’ faintly
It’s dark-old in here, smell’s of decaying memories
Men whose pride they choked on, lie still in poetries
Like this
I think of my unborn son, and his unattended funeral
Mine is life to grieve, tossed and burnt and non-liberal
Unlike his
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