#1988-Listless
09/01/2023
A quiet winter day,
When the sun hides,
A lamp in daylight shines,
Yet luck feels rusty,
And upside-down hangs.
There are many signs,
With hidden meanings,
Craving to be found.
But I need not forget,
Most are projections,
Of a listless mind,
Groping for a ledge,
To quietly land.
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