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Wincing at the light, I deprive myself; Take in an uneven frame. With lowered brows and interminable thoughts I pass it all by, Float and reflect on the detail Never seen, Convinced I experienced it all, Scratching in the rest; I tear in the blue sky and smear the Breaking waves; I become more an object of scorn as the greens And greys of the cliff side are marred, Framed in the corner of an eye.
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Mar 9, 2015
Mar 9, 2015 at 1:55 PM UTC
Blinkers On A Crunchy Gravel Path
Wincing at the light, I deprive myself; Take in an uneven frame. With lowered brows and interminable thoughts I pass it all by, Float and reflect on the detail Never seen, Convinced I experienced it all, Scratching in the rest; I tear in the blue sky and smear the Breaking waves; I become more an object of scorn as the greens And greys of the cliff side are marred, Framed in the corner of an eye.
I have a tendency to get stuck in my head while I'm out. I have trouble switching off and taking everything in. I call myself an observer but miss so much due to an over-active head. This was written about how much I missed the last time I took a long cliff walk near where I live on a nice day not so long ago. I gleaned nothing worthwhile from my absence that day, or any other. .
leigh321f
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Mar 9, 2015
Mar 9, 2015 at 1:55 PM UTC
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