Poetry

Kahlia Mazacalletti


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21 december 2012

Baggage

Up all night; I cannot sleep-Like my eyes are glued wide open
Do I just dismiss the fact that it is going on or wash it down the drain
like the soap in the sink after a good rinsing
Something inside me is sad, I get up early in the dark...
Like a newborn babe; wanting it's mother
I feel so intolerant at times; like I am doing something wrong
It seems it has all built up like a volcano ; waiting to erupt any minute
I want to sleep, to put my head on the pillow and just drift away
I have counted so many sheep, I have a lined coat
Maybe it is not meant to be; maybe I will sleep whenever
I have unpacked all my baggage
That I have it stored in lockers all over the USA 





For Jean






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