Jul 2020
Nine hours gone
and
it's nine twenty-one.
the day marches on
much like the infantry
the infant me
thinks they're toy soldiers
the adult
knows they are not.
ps it's nine twenty-five now
and
it's nine twenty-one.
the day marches on
much like the infantry
the infant me
thinks they're toy soldiers
the adult
knows they are not.
ps it's nine twenty-five now
(68/Here and now)
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