Charles Dawes

All I Do Is - Poem by Charles Dawes

with eyes that see
and hands that touch,
who would you become
if life became to much?
any of your dreams can end.
much like a needle,
coming of its vinal tract.

a meeting of powerful men
can only solve the simplest of troubles/
as if you are a bear,
asleep in its den.

now my words are just as
patchy as my stubbles.
writing down what I
but not really.

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Poem Submitted: Saturday, February 13, 2010

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