Saturday, June 6, 2009

A place to rest

the calendar
is two months behind
my memory
is failing all the time

who am I again?
and where do I belong?
who am I again?
and who was I before?

the impressions of the past
lead me lower to the floor
while my will is slowly heading
for the door

and the answers that I seek
are escaping as we speak
so I think I'll lie down
and close my eyes

and sleep

for the final time

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