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Jul 2013
At the gate of the mind Anxiety stands guard
Heavy boots, heavy gun
Sweating from the sun

Approaching from the darkness is a child called Sleep
Soft eyes, soft skin
Hoping to get in

Sleep smiles meekly but Anxiety shakes his head
Not yet, not tonight
And he locks the gate tight
It just kind of hit me that I have a bunch of poetry saved on my computer from the last couple of years, and I don't know why I've never shared it. So I'm gonna post some of those in lieu of new writing, which I really need to write.
Taylor Martin
Written by
Taylor Martin  Texas
(Texas)   
679
 
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