A little raw

This temperature’s about to burst
while hall passes possess more than their carriers
like books to literature
and frailty to the hope that’s about to break.

Sometimes I just want to break and steal
just to find some way to feel
something more for choices that have no weight
or the time to take chances
from those still willing
and knowing
that chance’s coin
can be flipped more than once
and every time you sleep
you can only hope you’ll wake up,

but you can never expect anything
beyond your own doubts
where the flies have already begun to gather
over all the things we’d rather be doing.


About Sean O'Gorman

Spoken Word poet from Ottawa. View all posts by Sean O'Gorman

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