Behind closed eyes

If we could all
live to try new things
there’d be
no room left for friends.
No dates for us un-invited
once that cold shoulder turns
and it’s her face
you get to see.
That look’s like a blanket,
covering you
until there’s nothing
you can see
and nowhere else
for you to go.

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About Sean O'Gorman

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

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