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brown sock

oh to go back to the wonderful days of high school

Brown Sock

Dressing in the dark, I am fearful to see my naked form
The artificial light reveals the imperfections that were loved
By the others before this storm.

I think that I will survive. It seems I don’t see my friends anymore.
How they notice the one brown sock on the right
The scuffed old shoes that are barely held together with comfort
Duct tape, memories, and fear

My eyes remain blind I don’t see the laughter
That my comical outfit evokes. The sweater and gym shorts
Mock my sanity. It seems perhaps that awkward brown sock
Remains the only connection to my sanity, maybe blue is better

Brady A Beard

Copyright 2003 Brady A Beard


Posted by bbeard on 09/02 at 07:39 PM in Poetry

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