London Poem: Day 339

22 July

The day, in shortness, is
Closer to when I must decide
Whether this is for me, or
The life I planned lacks the
Taste I believed it would.
While lives were drawn in
This fantasy, dreamed in
Detail to find the pieces failed
To align in any pattern,
Because with even the thinnest
Congruency I would have
Prattled on.

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Published by

keelancrampsey

In flux

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