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David Zavala
Poems
Nov 2018
My files approaching me
A nightmare
is the lights and poets.
they are in the cold, the
nurses and the televisions,
cautiously, know that the pens
on the table will illuminate the streets.
St. Vincent sees father time and truth
but the moon refuses to go.
Written by
David Zavala
30/M/San Antonio
(30/M/San Antonio)
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