© Copyright-Kim McMechan (884502738421)
Light on the creaky floorIt's a morning with open skyAnd me at the kitchen tableI take a breath and reach for youWhere are the poets who write about happiness?They make it seem like life is such a messBut it's enough to be right hereWhile the light slips down and across your hairI want to remember this:Every light-stilled room Your hair askewThe place you sit on the kithen stoolSwinging little legsWhile you hum a tuneWhere are the poets who write about happiness?They make it seem like life is such a messBut it's enough to be right hereWhile the light slips down and across your hair
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