Shivering in OmahaI am cold. Could you possibly come here
To hold me? I'm sad. Could you speak,
Make me happy again? I am lost in the
Midst of ambiguous evidence. Sometimes,
It seems that you'd rather not know me.
Sometimes, it seems that there's something
That keeps you from coming too close.
Will you tell me: which is it? Be fair.
I should know, as I'm cold. Will you
Come, or would it be best if I go?
Poetry by Lawrence Beck
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Written on 2017-01-11 at 00:26
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