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Poetry Mill #2

February 24, 2019

 

I will admit, it has been some time since my first Poetry Mill entry. What can I say? I'm a sensitive dude whose lazy. Poetry is an art form for most. For myself, its primarily self-care in the form of catharsis, maybe resulting in art? Who knows. Anyways, I liked this piece I wrote a few months ago, so I figured I would share it. 

 

 

Two North Poles

 

We walk down adjacent paths

Out of reach to touch

But within range to speak

It wasn’t always like this

What preceded this version of ourselves

Was two paths which seemed destined to run together in parallel

But the unpredictability of what is in front of you can create an illusion

So here we are now

Growing weary of speaking

Growing weary of each other

Your words becoming distant hums

Paths continually diverging

more

and more

and more

But there will always exist this pull

That brings us back together in some way

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