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Cobblestone Streets

March 23, 2008

Behind me, worn streets crumble into-

Dirt-covered cobblestone, rusting away, away like-.

Rusting fences, crumbling buildings,

lost and found friendships wither like so many-

Missed opportunities, relationships and women-

failed and flaunted, flirty and fleeting.

Progress left me in the dust,

but (if) anything before the end is just progress-;

Where does that leave me?


From → Poetry

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