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Early Morning Hopes

The bags under my eyes show that I care,
They're not from sleepless nights but being aware,
To see the morning rise oh so fair,
I would gladly wake the night for sunshine flare.
Its hard not to think when you see beauty in the
Kitchen sink, all human pain in the rain and love
in a final heartbeat.

Sorrow sounding footsteps clatter in concrete canyons,
Beating out the doldrums, echoing bounteous companions.
Graceful courteous reader do not be mistaken,
I have not departed from where this poem started:
For there is beauty in pain which bypasses unthinking brain,
I shall explain with this refrain.
''beauty and pain are one and the same as
each enhances the other,
to be only beauty to see only pain
would grow monotonous''
I hope great friend you now understand,
But do not think too deep for this is sleight of
Hand, flight of one a.m. fantasy and that is all.
Forever more,
Goodnight.
Tom Gibo
Thursday, June 22, 2006
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