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just me. hidden in plain sight and out of view.

Monday, November 9, 2009


Those words once again flooding endlessly
Searching, wanting, waiting in time
Trying only to find a home
Deep in the back of this wayward mind
Melodramatic souls begging
Pleading for a taste of this ground
Feeding at the trough of least resistance
Turning a deaf ear always to the sound
Resonating full fledged existence
On trial and under fire
All the while living past tense
Forever on top down to the wire
Kingdoms are crumbling, worlds are on fire
By the dozen masked men fade
Leaving the average joe to hold the bag
Famous last words, we've got it made
Time and again the trail goes cold
Sleeping shadows waking slowly
On for dear life we continue to hold
Stories write themselves so clearly

David L. Bowman