it is the study of being
at the summit, of knowing
from a distance the real
truth of things. it is
the way a teacher's hands
don't grip a podium. instead
they trace a line down
lecture notes, or drum
idly songs no student
has ever heard. it is
the spankings parents wish
they didn't have to give,
this hurts me more
than it hurts you. it is
the way we forget what
we were the very second
we become something else.
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6 comments:
This was just wonderful... I was hooked from the very first line!
As was I. (Hooked that is). I loved the line breaks...good pacing as well as wonderful content, especially this at the end:
the way we forget what
we were the very second
we become something else.
Thanks for this, there are some great writers here and you are surely one.
"the way we forget what
we were the very second
we become something else."
Wonderful lines --- and somehow true.
true, beautifully written and a great ending - what more can you want from a poem?
The last line is amazing. Love it.
"it is
the way we forget what
we were the very second
we become something else."
Loved this, it just flowed and I, too, loved the end.
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