• Deafening

    by  • August 21, 2010 • Love - Pure and Simple, Waxing Poetic • 0 Comments

    This feeling,
    Like a thousand circus tents in my heart,
    Isn’t aware that,
    It’s supposed to be fleeting,
    Hastily departing,
    Instead the tent poles dig in deep,
    The fat man grows idle,
    And the elephants all trumpet your name,
    Tirelessly.

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