Arguing With Myself Poem by Charles Dawes

Arguing With Myself



point made.
touché my friend.
how far till we arrive?
question.
yes, yes,
Im aware.

(oh look, he spelled his name
in the sand.
D-A-N-E
such a nice name.
reminds me of
photographed summer days.)

my faith rests with happiness.
you cant mistake that
for anything else.
'god, Im anxious.'
'nope, thats happiness.
point.2-love'

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