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Before the dawn's display Before the rooster calls And horses neigh Hot coffee on my breath Wearing an old hat that's old as death I set out in silence Into the dark Full of grit/pure providence Wearing a backpack Full of life I cross the faceless row Feel empty blackness as it weeps Dark moon has the sun in tow As the cold icy air catches on my lungs Freezing my nasal hair The frost makes step unsure I cross the boardwalk The distance is my lure I came prepared I came to my senses I feel freedom in the cold freezing air Wearing a backpack Full of life
0
Nov 23, 2016
Nov 23, 2016 at 8:14 PM UTC
Backpack full of life
Before the dawn's display Before the rooster calls And horses neigh Hot coffee on my breath Wearing an old hat that's old as death I set out in silence Into the dark Full of grit/pure providence Wearing a backpack Full of life I cross the faceless row Feel empty blackness as it weeps Dark moon has the sun in tow As the cold icy air catches on my lungs Freezing my nasal hair The frost makes step unsure I cross the boardwalk The distance is my lure I came prepared I came to my senses I feel freedom in the cold freezing air Wearing a backpack Full of life
South-by-Southwest
Written by
75/M/Birmingham , Alabama
Nov 23, 2016
Nov 23, 2016 at 8:14 PM UTC
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