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Acoustics

dead birds in my ceiling

tiny imbedded wings

they know who's laughing

and who refuses to sing

 

their beaks are listless

no longer in need of their eyes

their ears are long gone, past

so they don't hear the future's lies

 

dead birds in my ceiling

tiny imbedded wings

they see when I struggle

they see

everything.

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Written by
f-white
American
Published
May 9, 2013
Lines·Words
13·57
Notes

AN: I work in an old, kind of run down school. My office is on the stage, and the soundproofing on the ceiling has become quite grotesque. One day, I was staring up at it, and this image came to me.

copyright fhw, 2013

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