The last I remember,
it was a gray winter Sunday.
I look outside
my dirty window
at the empty branches
of a dead tree.
The afternoon is late
but never ending.
I walk down the empty street
in the shadows of buildings
that resemble broken,
decaying teeth.
Night will never fall
and no matter how long
I wander these sidewalks
to tire myself out,
I know that I will never
sleep again.
Wish you were here. - Jeff Barnes
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