Every Great Man Dies With a Gut

Words Of Birds

Everything in life

moves fast. I watched the sun split

the moon, again. and

There’s too many stars

tonight, to pick one for us.

There’s too many stars, faded and used,

to pin one to my

wall and find peace in her hue,

finding my way home to it,

thinking it might work.

You can stay awhile,

waste time and slow down, again,

light a cigarette.

Light a smoke for me,

and give me time to think.

I really don’t think

that I wholly understand

just where I should go from here.

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