The Camera

camera 1

The camera


As I was unpacking my bags in the new apartment in Germany, I came across the notebook in which I write all my poems. I hadn’t touched that one in quite some time, not even to read my mostly teenage angst-inspired, and sometimes surprisingly grown-up poems. This thought gave me pause; what had I written the last time I was here?

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What do you do, when you’re feeling low?

Naught, but sit tight and let it go.

You’ve said your piece and played your part

It’s time to say “Farewell!” and collect your heart.

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