almost there

Fighting over our thoughts,
all the similarities
breaking our focus
into dried up
little flakes.
On this windy day,
not walking
but watching
while our stations
break leave from their courses
and fall
for the first one they see.
I’m hurt
and sitting still,
not moving
where circles only spin
and my eyes
can only see
for so long.

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About Sean O'Gorman

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

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