By Stephen
Date: 2003 Feb 27
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Here I Write

Here I write as we stand;
a single heart along pavement lines.

Here I write as which it stands;
working steps in lonely land.

An old man asks of time...
But who else dares the one-way street?
The loveless dreams, the gleeful waits:
Where is happiness in all of this?

I row my path through bladed grass,
and think of love as torture trails.
The reluctant: Vacant.
And fools are occupied.

Too soon I'm out this broken fence!

Here I write as life does stands;
living serves such bent and gray

Here I write on hotter sands;
"the broken clock is right twice a day."