English OfficeA Poem by Thomas Emile VaughenYou want some kind of meaning; your thoughts transparent As you look out the window and see children, playing rivers, running Trees, blowing in the breeze and litter, wild with the wind Everything is going somewhere... except from you, in the stale little office With the same old air, thick with dying dreams Coffee/tea, drink it up, sip it up Enduring for endurance sake, stiff English, upper lip Don't tremor, shake or break Don't indicate, your dis. satisfaction Stay safe, wrap up Woolen scarf, so tight your desires don't escape
© 2018 Thomas Emile Vaughen |
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Added on March 20, 2018 Last Updated on March 20, 2018 AuthorThomas Emile VaughenFloating around the north of England, United KingdomAboutSometimes I make myself a coffee, pop on the internet and write stuff. Read at your *peril*. Can be found on Substack [https://thomasemilevaughen.substack.com] or Bluesky [@cperil.bsky.soci.. more.. |

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