gravitational dilation.
why do we wish upon the stars?
why do our dreams lie beyond the black?
surely our wild horses run rampant
in a nearer frontier?
well, the market-goers like
what they cannot have, and
our hidden fields are more virile.
no. happiness is circular.
it must lie on the edge of a black hole.
a more cowardly and repetitive mistress
there never was.
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Yeah, it's been awhile. I've refrained from posting a lot of my poetry on here because I'm thinking of submitting some to a scholarship competition, and I don't want any conflict over plagiarism or something stupid like that. Most of it's on my facebook though.
-n