Departure Poem by Paul Storm
Departure
The suitcase
Fill it. dammit;
Really.
Is that it.
Really.
The moonlight flickers on the glass,
I wonder about UFOs.
Are they real.
Am I?
God.
Pack up.
Leave.
No. Yea.
God, really.
Friday, July 10, 2020
Topic(s) of this poem: departure
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4/25/2024 2:21:59 PM # 1.0.0.1119
