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An Unassuming sunset
Lingering,
Existing,
Over the quiet homes,
The square roads,
And the people that
reside
In the lives they've formed
From peices,
From shards,
This is the place that they
die,
Still other are yet to be
born.
A crack in the wall,
A patch of dry grass,
Things you will see
here and there,
There's no time here
to look around,
We're too busy looking
for stars.
And they come out, yes,
they come out at
night,
But we've already locked
all our doors,
We're watching the screen,
Hoping somebody's seen
These stars that we
still haven't found.
©2004-2009 ~MrsPlasket
:iconmrsplasket:

Author's Comments

A poem I wrote while walking down the street in my neighborhood, at sunset.

Comments


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:iconrisim:
A touch of irony, intriging in the slightest sense, very good. :hmm:
:iconke3per:
very well-written... insightful and reflective, without too much interference from style ---thumbs up :thumbsup: ;)
:iconthat-loser-telly:
this is quite good.... the last 2 lines really give us the full perspective of the poem.... the words flow guite gracioulsy... its nice have a good writer come on to the site....

--
Volition... Now... [link]
:iconw00d3n-tunera:
It really does seem this way at times; that people will SAY that they care about a cause, be it anything at all, and then these are people who hope for someone else to find the answer. Might be subconciencely these people know that the answer could drive them mad, and they fear that. Ah, I'm sorry, I should be critiqueing and not speculating, sorry about that. Most of all, you have hit a major point in a creative way. The way it reads just seems so right. It makes people THINK!

-James

Details

September 10, 2004
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