29 August 2005

'no title' poem or whatever

I come and I come and I come again,
to a place I've always been.
Somehow the words seem different this time,
and I wonder what they mean;
definitions seem to be avoiding me.
Hollowed and shell-like, no substance at all.
When will the words come alive again?
How will they sing their song to me?
This place is full of silence now.
But I come, I come again once more.

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