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Shadows on the walls look like souls passing thru.
Back and forth they speed, not hitting each other. Not yet human.
The walls, egg-white, breathe when the blinds breeze over them.
I've figured out why the souls stay
pacing back and forth, in the middle of two worlds.
Maybe, they believe the walls are like doors.
As the blinds pass over, they pass through.
Still miss. They must be so frustrated.
The faster the cars outside, the quicker they fly
flinging themselves down and still ending up back where they were.
Over and over and over, until the white wall is put to bed
and tucked underneath nights' blanket of black.
Souls lose their way most nights.
Somehow I see them still, panicked in the darkness.
Trying to adjust their holes for eyes. Attempting to see, determined to.
Still blind. And the morning comes back.
Still can't get through the blinds.
I keep them open despite their everyday defeat
they still have a chance.
And maybe I'll be right here, in the same spot
when they finally make it over.
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