Wednesday, August 20, 2008

Lies that have been told about me

Had I infinite monkeys
Clacking away at
Infinite typewriters...

This is my worst nightmare
Imagined, come true
In the bright daylight.

The one secret question
I don’t know whether
The soothing can answer

It’s as if someone
Stole furtive glances
Into the dark attic

Or went to my bedroom
Every night of my life
To record my whispers

Stray thoughts of ending
Or visions of failure
Can’t touch this regret

She tallies her losses
In songs that I’ve stolen
What was I thinking?

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