Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god


I was harmlessly left out in the fog,
Forgotten or misplaced,
Lonely and lost
In a cloud of breath.
Stoic, strong, no smile present.
Smelling the smokiness of morning
And having miniature debates
In the safeties of my mind,
Wondering why
I was so easy to forget.

September 27, 2004

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