A venue To Dead End Streets.

A Venue To Dead End Streets.

 

 ©-MFB III

 

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Insurmountable walls
created by me,
lie between us.


Checking the ropes,
that I hope will
be our heartstrings.


Stammering rehearsed words,
of what I might say,
given a split second
to grace your attention
with my feeble thoughts.


Never really seeing
that small door
left open to your soul,
as you strive to let
loneliness out.


As you hope someone
will come in without
fanfare, coined catch phrases,
and forced emotions.


Just an impromptu hello,
and a warm grin
would do it,
filling your hunger
for companionship.

Convert sad sensations
into conversations.

Beauty is far

too often ignored,

as beyond the

common man's grasp.


Meanwhile I load
my monkey backpack

like a stammering child
full of desparity

as I prepare to reach you
in ways you'd never care to see.

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Itswritten profile image

Itswritten 6 years ago from Detroit, Michigan

Great Poem

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