Thank you to those who support me via my Paypal account: The government doesn't read my poetry. You do. Out of over 370 poems here on this blog by me, I hope you find one or more you like.

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Monday, May 9, 2016

you can't be here

you can't be here
     dear running through a forest
     beneath pudding stone
     the needled floor
     softening dreams
and why not
because I only want
to touch you
     above the pine
     ripped by lightning
that would be impossible
because I won't allow
you to do that
     rock broken in half inch sheets
     strewn about its base
     madness for vampires
as these eyes
fill with sleep
nothing is fulfilled
     the cliff towers
     over a shallow cave
     partly blocked and dark
thinking about you
minutes melt
I am wasting my time

Barry G. Wick

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