I like writing poetry. Not all of it is going to be a historical epic or an ode to something. These are like little glimpses of the subway in my mind; my train of thought isn't always artsy or symbolic or deep or meaningful, but I like to think that art takes ordinary things and makes people see a sort of beauty in them. So, look around- I've been doing this for a while. Enjoy ♥
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Saturday, February 16, 2008
Weak
He had to try many times
just to find
my pulse,
squinting at my arm
and concentrating hard
on the tiny needle that
bounced up and down.
There was a whispered comment
beneath his breath,
meant to put me at ease-
“Your heart is so weak,
it would take me seven days
to finally hear a beat.”
I faked a smile,
and took his words
to heart.
I have a mystery illness...
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