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The Wrinkle in My Toe (A Poetic Story of Life)

Silrain (Rain)
Torrance, California, US

The end of my story is bad.
Every day is sad.
All I want is a wrinkle to time.
No one understands.
Something on my face or on the chin of my hand.
No false alarm to wake me up cause school is where the nuts go!
No one to tell me, but no buts, I have to go, no, no’s!
A place where I could see, just that little wrinkle in me.
To time so I could tell, If the future is oh this swell.
So someday I would know and all the bad would blow away to the farthest I could go where in summer there is snow.
A queen I mightn’t be where servants itch my toe.
My head not so low, if only I would know.
But what I do so know on my elbow of my toe a wrinkle I can see into.
A dark blue sky, I’m there with you.
And nothing will be wrong, phew.

Cause there in the wrinkle of my toe a scene not boring as we know so pleasant, not a drip of rain not a flake of snow.
A happy ending that I know.

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