| my_liberty | ||
| tourist |
Black coffee Last of our Dogs at my feet Sky outside slowly brightening With the feeble Spring Sun still below The horizon littered with buildings and treetops The sound of distant Traffic and Sirens Comes to me over the garden walls rises above the sounds of falling water Through the walls and windows calling me out to the street To make my way once again To sell my time so I can have the Leftovers In this Place with the ONE I Love still sleeping upstairs |
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