In The Prescence Of Nothing Poem by mat klink
In The Prescence Of Nothing
Jelous of your hight,
I wish i could touch the sky,
And reach for heven like you do,
Anger makes no penance,
Like its hallucienogenic,
And nothing ever feels like you do.
Sit down and think,
You can almost feel it come across,
Forget eveything you know,
You can end up lost in thought.
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5/1/2024 9:14:52 PM # 1.0.0.1119
