At Dreams End
Best to bottle then?
Nicer not to thrust and hustle?
Count cherries in the yard
chink a little
trace my life line
with a smooth finger tip?
No more boom cha
rika rika
dim dim dim whoosh
No more lashing, beating, fending,
roaring, bombing out,
seething, slashing, burning?
Just the gnawing tinnitus of a discarded dream.
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