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Sitting on cold porch stairs
Night sky giving me blank stares
Headphones on head
But nothing is said

Cars pass blasting rhymes and beats
Sounds merge to make new sheets
Trees bathe in full moon's light
Leaves hugging branches giving might

Father never turns a blind eye
Mother days all not known why
Children hear not heard
But those not or the herd
©2008-2009 ~lopokomashi
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Submitted: May 17, 2008
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Made back in 8th grade.
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