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Under a Blanket

Can’t find my

way back home

that old truck

used to be new

I didn’t know

it would turn old

wandering the

crooked  streets

with me

in this little town

at midnight

never thought an old

man would be driving

an old truck

that didn’t know its

way back home

a dark figure walks

pacing

through the lilies

in every field

lingering

where he used to play

as a child

he can no longer

breathe deep

he lies awake

in his head

bowing down

while murderous

shadows roam

free

he cannot sleep

he is sober

tossing and turning

under a blanket

 

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