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loose pages poems: I'm too skairt

(written on a notecard)
I'm too skairt to rite a pome.

I'm too skairt to rite a pome...
this world -- this country -- this city
with its dark nights and
little places to drink in and little
people to get in trouble with.
Everyone's loneliness just hits me at once
out doing their desperate lonely things
and me wanting to join them -- knowing
there will be a morning.
Dreading it, yet hoping it will come soon.