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Skin of the young ones

by Sam Roberts

Crowded in a seemly small room
Me myself and I
Hypnotically swaying from wall to wall
With my eyes dead,

My dead life, departing like dawndaydusk,
separate movements
Like time, the decaying; the birth; the life of the rose

carcass bones sit on my skin
to my skin, it unfolds,
into - out of -into -out of
memyselfandI

White walls, narrowing,
And I am swaying gently this future beneath me
Of The birth; the life; the rose
The rot of my gums, against this mould
Just unfold,

Like time

We watch the petals repair the bud
We stop to admire the change
watch how these things start again
And realize our age,
We see our decay,
The festering and plague.

Perpetuity

I was Once a child,
a vacuum in time
Euphoria in a sweet innocent life
And a rose that never died
pleasantly covering the skin of youth.
Protecting it for all it had left
But never dying

Like time.

02/21/2005

Posted on 02/21/2005
Copyright © 2024 Sam Roberts

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