Breathing at work to become a man,
Commuters I wade through,
the dead clan,
They crane to the sky,
But feel only ground,
Makes me glad I’m deaf to their sound.
If I were a cat I’d be pink,
I’d be blue,
I’d be a cat,
if only to be,
nothing at all,
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Copyright©2017-1999 by Rebecca R. Hammack
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