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I think I saw you once, sitting silent on the swings; Your pervasive empty made the cold that February morning sting; The chains were dormant, and you had nothing to say. I wanted only to give you something to care for, to make the chains sway. I couldn’t approach, I had been frozen to the pavement. I wasn’t used to this sort of Romantic sort of enslavement; I think maybe I stared too long, waiting for some part of a smile. But if I could ever get my feet up, it’d be worthwhile. I wrestled quietly with ice that held me down to the gray -- I didn’t want to escape so quickly, didn’t want to scare you away. You started to stand, and in my direction glanced askance; I promise I could swing with you if you just gave me a chance.
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May 24, 2012
May 24, 2012 at 1:46 PM UTC
A Chance To Swing
I think I saw you once, sitting silent on the swings; Your pervasive empty made the cold that February morning sting; The chains were dormant, and you had nothing to say. I wanted only to give you something to care for, to make the chains sway. I couldn’t approach, I had been frozen to the pavement. I wasn’t used to this sort of Romantic sort of enslavement; I think maybe I stared too long, waiting for some part of a smile. But if I could ever get my feet up, it’d be worthwhile. I wrestled quietly with ice that held me down to the gray -- I didn’t want to escape so quickly, didn’t want to scare you away. You started to stand, and in my direction glanced askance; I promise I could swing with you if you just gave me a chance.
hank-desroches
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May 24, 2012
May 24, 2012 at 1:46 PM UTC
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