laundry my tired shadows
echos of the days gone
and again curled up to dark
rest turning around and over
tumbling through confusion
dreams and doors and unertainty
hanging up and pressing to clear
does nothing but recrod
re-wear yesterday and it's still fresh
remember when you thought you got
that spot out thought you were
over it could get through
another load, another try
(of course it's me)
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