counting

i was sitting on the wall,
counting flies and counting falls.

they all hurt me – one, two, three,
careless bruises left by thee.

glued my feet right to the ceiling,
had a pretty funny feeling.

hours passed by – four, five, six,
no one came to help and fix.

moving slowly through the days,
last one’s sad and new one’s gay.

what’s the difference? anyway,
you keep going, i just stay.


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