My head is full of empty thoughts; noises
echo lazily,
echo lazily;
Kant, Obtuse angles, Joyce, and Wars
echo lazily.
She speaks to me,
as she speaks to others,
But I don't hear those hollow words of hers.
In fact, I don't exist.
echo lazily,
echo lazily.
Gifted, Hume, journals, and clocks.
Clocks spitting slow time,
dissipating like smoke in the wind
Breaths wasted, knowledge kept,
Minds in conflict - soldiers at war.
A baby thought wanders across my mind
to find nothing to graze upon.
It soon leaves.
echo lazily
echo lazily.
About the Creator
Barb Dukeman
I have three books published on Amazon if you want to read more. I have shorter pieces (less than 600 words at https://barbdukeman.substack.com/. Subscribe today if you like what you read here or just say Hi.



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