Just A Thought

This

place

steer

me

into

the

open

breeze.

Smoke

myself

into

avenue

obscure

then

fall too.

Make a

ground

where

I have

lost I’ve

found.

Here

brambles

crack;

worms

crawl

in soul,

black.

Shelves,

books

you’ve

read;

feed me,

dear

before I

dead.

Take it,

a hand.

Give a

place I

stand.

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