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Poems II | ![]() |
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There is a theory:
That only the magic of the sciences exist, Hydrogen atoms vibrating recklessly, The vast empty micro-space in something we believe to be solid, Does magic only exist at sub-atomic levels? I am sure it is not from out of my hat Or nothing up my sleeve Would it not be wonderful to believe in these kinds of magic? A Charred Life Charred remnants so familiar That is all there ever was Lighting a fire does not mean as in the fire of passion But a burning as in to the ground It gets hard to breath in smoke filled small spaces I wonder among those that have real lives Surely they can smell me The charred remains of the life I once dreamed of When they shy away then I know I search and I hope and I dream But there is no life for me Little wonder I have abhorrence for myself A cold cruel perpetual fire |
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Hold in my Heart |