here i stand, quietly
5:52 am on a sunday
in this tiny terrace on the third floor
with my phone on one hand
and a cigarette on the other
i lean on the wall
as i watch the sun
slowly overpowering the streetlights
the people getting ready
preparing for another day
i think about what it's like
to escape my tiny little prison
oh what beauty it is
to go about my day
and rediscover the world
i think about the morning walks
a little over a year ago
will the future mirror the same freedom?
i see tomorrow as an unreachable hand
i watch the present longing become insufferable
my hair is long now
it starts to cover my eyes
but my hands are both full
so i guess my vision remains blocked
and my head is still preoccupied.
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