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Poem 1: A Beginning

I sat and I wondered, to myself in my head, what shall I do before going to bed? "There's not much day left; there's no time ...

Sunday, August 21, 2011

Poem 310: Sunday Blues

The sky is bright with royal light
but I see just Sunday blues
The choir's words are crisp and bright
but I'm sing'n Sunday blues
The faces passing smile wide
I smirk my Sunday blues
The sunbeams beg me to confide
but I keep my bluish hues
The sky is light, the songs are bright
warm smiles fill the air
sunbeams soften hardened hearts
but Sunday Blues don't care.


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