Gather the day
Into a few words
So the time
Isn’t absorbed into syllables
Stare at me
If you need to
Jab at me with your gaze
Click your tongue
In disapproval
But realize
You aren’t original
Not fresh or new
Boring are your criticisms
And the paper bars
You keep trying to nail
Above my head
So no surprises
When your words
Become confetti
For my evening route home
Every day is my parade
And you are the crowd
Left on the sidelines
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Poetic Trials 