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Second Time
In the emptiness of it all
A string quartet plays melodies
Similar to the ones that of my grandfather hummed me to sleep

I break open
Pour the coffee, skip the milk, add the sugar
Silently sipping, now lukewarm after a few minutes wait

It was raining on that December day
I was brought by ambulance to the hospital
Given injections in my legs
Still, I lay
Still, I have become

No fear, or regrets
No embarrassments, no chartered waters
Like I said, no reasons, no more

I stand tall
With my fleshy weapon strong at my side
My eyes focused on the target
Rage in my heart - no sympathy

In my shade I cannot hide
In the sun, I will fade, and surely die
With no more options
No more running, making, inhaling

Without freedom
Without eight hours fight
Without her love

Only a small instance
Of left over scraps
Of left over disease
I beg you to forgive me
For what I am about to achieve

My achievement,
Museum quality


 2009 David Greg Harth
09.08.12.21:08:31@130BklynNYC