in the early morning

the wind blows through

my heart

my blood runs cold

gripping to my dreams

not wanting to wake

the life I have created,

the one that consumes

is becoming unbearable

my soul is transgressing into


happiness seems miles away

happiness is in my hands

slipping through my fingertips

like sand

I have no verve

loosing my nerve

headed sideways

through the heart

of some common land

marked in time

the clock is stuck there

and here is where

I walk the line

Author's Notes/Comments: 

early morning thoughts

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