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The Dedpoet
Poems
Oct 2018
Homeless
Between coming and going
Nothing stays,
A pencil stabs through paper,
There is no desk.
Thr light scatters,
Elongated, alienated,
Staring at the words.
I find myself in the middle
Of this verse,
Motionless;
Where ever I am
is home,
There is no place...
I become
The unwritten.
Written by
The Dedpoet
38/M/San Anto, Tejas
(38/M/San Anto, Tejas)
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