Perfection Poem by Joseph Narusiewicz

Perfection



Only for awhile
Night is a broken vampire
A light without love
Direction a thousand roads
Delivered into hands of the wind
Purpose has redeemed someone else
The crowd is my friend
Others have joined little cults
Cult families
Cult jobs
Perfection rips my mind

Friday, October 26, 2012
Topic(s) of this poem: jobs
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Joseph Narusiewicz

Joseph Narusiewicz

So St Paul, Minnesota
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