My waterfall

I’m in the wrong place,
every time
while those subtle hands wave
and my head turns
to see something different.
Watching the people
who stare
and talk back without reason,
this seems to be me,
yet only seems,
like the ones
in all my clothes,
just waiting to give
and have me look
the way I’ve felt 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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