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Snafu in the Void

Moderator: NMI Bukowski Jr.
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May 27, 2020
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updated version:


there is a place in my soul
but it's always empty
it offers you nothing
only one lucky wet cigarette,
but only if you're lucky

sometimes I sleep there
other times I sneak there
it's no good for me and I know it
she knows it
we all know it more than ever

there is a place in my soul
that may one day be filled
some men use shovels
but I like to write little poems
just to throw them in

I'm still waiting for my construction permit
I've been hearing elevator music for years
until then, I can only wait and sleep
and cry
in that place







there's a place in my soul
but it's usually empty
just meaningless void
sometimes I sleep there
other times I sneak there
it's no good for me
I know it
we all know it more than ever
there's a place in my soul
that will never be filled
and I will wait
and sleep
and cry
in that place
 
Last edited:
Lovely poem
I feel "waiting for cement" could be a fitting title or if you crave somthing more metephorical, perhaps "excapism paralisis"
 
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