wherever i go lately it seems it’s too late
the wine has been open too long
the food cooled and picked over
flies no longer waived away
age is a death sentence for friendship
work is a wailing wall
sleep is dreams of weeping
when my wife and children are in bed
i walk outside and stare back at
the cold eye of the moon
my shadow walks with me in silence
my breath a phantom in the wind
like a child
hands over my eyes
i have become invisible
i can’t put them down
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