The Sirens

The sirens are heard coming from without these four walls which enclose me.

And all I can think about right now is Tacos, it is Tuesday.

It could be that those sirens I've heard belong to an ambulance

carrying a loved one of mine--I want tacos.

How self-centered and self-absorbed I've become, but I think it not bad--completely.

My thoughts intertwined yet to be defined and put down on this site,

as the fingers thump on individual letters to produces thoughts

which would not be shared otherwise.

I can sit and type all day, and I wouldn't be bothered because time passes me by.

I am a poet, living like a homeless, educated and hopeful thant life will provide.

 

This poem is about: 
Me
Our world

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