Say What - Gord - Aspoet
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Gord

2016-11-09 12:00 am
Dreams aloft, desires of the sky,
She dreams for me clouds and rain,
Misplacing my characters,
Rewriting their pain.
Then chastising me again,
What is their trade?
Perhaps destined by fate,
What is their patriotism made of?

What happens with the sky at night,
Do clouds disappear and birds not fly?
Do the stars not shine?
Does the moon guide,
Even if forgotten by society,
Too ignorant to find it?
It stays aloft, as my dreams and desires.
And she keeps for me only mockery, pity,
conjecture upon a lectern of pure disdain,
Judgement passed by the clouds and the rain,
For everything she dreamt of she was.
And everything I evade.

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