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Feb 05, 2009 18:28

Open Office Auto-complete poems #2

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Reach higher, thank a neighbor.
Saying helicopter in an elevator
will bring bad luck.
Worse than an umbrella
opened, indeed.
Reach toward a commonly known goal;
familiar people, familiar places.
Clocks tick, awaiting a chance to make a change;
but they can't do any more than you or I.
A Friday.
A satchel we carry on our indefinite journey.
These things shock our inaccurate sensations and drag
our existence
through the cracked and drying paint of our lives.
Thanks be to your neighbors, to those who've been a haven.
Come in from the rain, it's colder outside than in.
You shouldn't be afraid.

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To each other, we have ourselves.
Usually, thoughts are privileged to those
who originate them.
My thoughts to me,
You'd be best with yours.
Somehow we can't help but share them
anyway.
Perceive the conceal, the hidden force within.

poem, autocomplete

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