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Having Blindears On

Everyone gets born into this world alone. Some get gifts from above, some can't find a bone. The difference might be giving into your fears. Or maybe some were just born with blind ears. The messages are there to hear by all. And yet some just seem to miss their call. All around the bell is ringing. But the lesson get's lost in the singing. Shoulder to shoulder and yet so far away. I'm sorry, what'd you say? Drifting in directions where we turn away. Summing it all up, come what may. Never meeting in that middle ground. Fading away lost in the lost and found. The years roll by in the tears you cry. Leaving you wondering why you ever try. You swear someday is still on the line. That warm sunny Monday felt so fine. * It brought an answer to that troubled query. That started fading that darkness that made you weary. Temporary sight into a fools folly future. A band aide on a wound in need of a cure. For when the day begins, the past is surely gone. But some still listen to the stereo will blindears on. * April 20th, a monday that I woke up to a beautiful sunny day in the mental health unit on a 72 hr. hold for a suicide attempt on the 19th some years ago.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2022




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Date: 11/4/2022 6:42:00 PM
Hope you are fine, Leslie. The poetry here, is great..Harry.
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