Is It Poetry (1958 - / Bus-Boys And Poets, Washington D.C.)
I Never Felt At Home-Below
I never felt at home below.
As people come and go.
Silly when I give this thought.
Where in the end we go.
The sun begins it's arch on high.
All feel it's noon time glow.
Blind eyes would let it fade away.
To set again each day.
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