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Twinkling Parallax

Poems, prose, short fiction, and other rubbish.

Tactical

Posted by Prester John Saturday, January 16, 2010 at 8:21 PM

Is it strange
being at the bottom
of a century of
lies?

When you can sit
in your asylum
and count the
steps?

Is it strange
to be alone
for all your
life?

When I can sit
behind the glass
and watch your
steps?

 

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