The search
It was the evening of the day after
what really should have been
no more than a skin deep intermezzo
with that magic dynamo
blasting at irregular intervals
in all sorts of weird corners,
with nothing more to go on
than a left over flash that still rippled
through Information high way;
what really should have been
no more than a lazy slide
securing a good feeling for free
turned out to be a continuous
search of a broader understanding,
never ending, just getting along.
Poetry by Bob
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Written on 2009-02-21 at 21:13
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Brian Oarr |
Texts |
by Bob Latest textsI seldom walkthere’s a rumor there will be no full stop so many regrets who am I |
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