Missed Opportunities - Gord - Aspoet
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Gord

2018-10-16 05:56 pm
In my city they wish for dreams,
Fish in streams, with no disease.
Innocently they live of demons,
Give no lead, monster.
Imposter husband,
Who touches a lot,
Possibly you are of honors,
Kissing no others,
Triage cupboards, heed.
For up above there is no seer,
Magical being informs our love,
Only me.

So where mist is aqua,
My spirit is awestruck,
A blessed potato, tucked.
My stomach is full,
I have work too abrupt,
Where a kiss is awkward,
Kids living squalid.

So in my city, of missed ague,
I will breakthrough,
My break through, a great due.
A comedic debut, no laughing,
A great deal of scoffing at me.

My blessed potato, to keep me warm,
To be eaten, and too returns.
As I scrape these tile floors,
Let no-one know, current location:
Somewhere forward, even from tomorrow.

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