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Jan 2015
Sometimes I feel,
like a tile on the floor.
A single tile,
and nothing more.

Dirt embedded,
in my cracks.
Covered in,
everyone's tracks.

Walked all over,
by the world.
In need of mending,
I go unheard.

So I lay here,
cemented in place.
Trapped in this life,
I can't escape.
Copyright Barry Pietrantonio
Barry Andrew Pietrantonio
Written by
Barry Andrew Pietrantonio  29/M/Salem, New Hampshire
(29/M/Salem, New Hampshire)   
1.1k
 
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