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Lying in a field at twilight, listening to The Church |
| Watching the Sky In twilight the sky falls asleep, Starfish lights the way. An empty field beckons. Walk, turn off. Sit somewhere. Lie down, Under the Milky Way. The imminent winter, Hesitant in arrival, is held back By the stubborn autumn glory. Cold sheets of cloud shielding the ground Bring back a welcome memory, There for me to cherish and yield. (Learn a lesson not to forget them, For memories are all you have.) As the winter fights its way in, I wish for a beach in this empty town. Instead, I lie in a field, feeling Like my ambition has been strapped down. Held prisoner by a lack of money, my Incessant internet dreams control the mind. My peculiar drunkenness skews the night light, And my subconscious future life, as always, Is the trivial high, of another depressing night. So I lay back and look up to the sky, And I smile. Because the Milky Way, Is finally on its way. |