Lesson 48
Underneath the marquee moon, we peddledsilverware for the upstanding gentlemen
hurrying home so the break of dawn
wouldn't catch a whiff of their crimes, and yet
none looked at us, not even when
we robbed them blind, in the city’s storm.
How unfathomable to be invisible!
How wonderful to be alone!
Poetry by Sameen
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Written on 2024-11-20 at 08:16
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alarian |
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