suffered today
am i, still alive
who is this face
w/me in the dark
they touch, my words
w/whispers
i save a moment
for my to-morrows
dead poets
and wise men
the mad call them
voices, or maybe gods
gifts for the skeptic
exposed to my death
in their dreams
now the gods
no longer speak
sober, all too sober
somethings we never
need to know
somethings we'll
never know
wenelson2009
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