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the curtains wave goodbye
Burnt beige curtains dance with the wind on a soggy August day.
Pleading for mercy at the feet of clouds,
rising valiantly above dead white daisies
Galloping like trains through a summer’s breeze,
They stab at the air in such broken-hearted bliss.
Begging for those beaten, home deprived planes
to fly back o'er these fields of wavy grain.
Blaming this shaky, shatter-windowed home
For never letting them go.
Like the hem of a twirling taupe dress,
they flutter amongst moon-sick wrens.
A bittersweet tome of existence,
alone in this house, this lonely, gray old house.
And they wrap themselves round sandalwood crosses,
forever inside,
they wave goodbye to a velvet ocean.
Crying beneath their sleeves,
Addio, addio, addio.
Last edited by doesnotexist : 04-06-2007 at 12:55 AM.
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