Sunday, November 22, 2015

Spring cleaning

I stay up all night
owing to myself
to exterminate before dawn,
to the last single lie 
that the night keeps whispering;
so I can handover
a pristine morn
to the first bird that chirps;
there aren't many nights left,
contrary to the lies,

which keep breeding in multitudes
I am tired, exhausted, and sick,

that the best I shall have to give,
could only be a well-worn mop 
with an unfinished task...

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