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Neva Flores Varga Smith
Poems
Feb 2013
Dust Gathering on My Rhymes
I am suspended in a time that is lost
in the laughter
flowing from my lips.
And no one ever told me,
there is no way out of this.
I am past recognizing solid ground
and burning
from the memories I keep.
Still, my Muse sings a lullaby
while my destiny weeps.
Paper flowers litter the floorboard
of my heart
and go up in smoke inside my head.
I can't control
a single breath ahead.
My thoughts choose to stay inside the ink
where there's no risk
of living outside this time.
I can feel dust gathering...
on my rhymes.
Copyright @2013 Neva Flores - Changefulstorm
Written by
Neva Flores Varga Smith
53/F/Rochester NY
(53/F/Rochester NY)
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