I dare not write,
What it is I feel inside
I fear the power,
To predict that outcome
If only I knew where it was,
In this bond you lie
This stories always been so predictable
You hold the gun
This unfathomable, spherical object
Can I hold it?
Just leave it in the lonesome pine
Nobodies business
The same old tale, down this coequal road,
Is how they told it
I hear the same ending time after time,
It does not feel finished
Dallas Shea Smith©
November '09
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