CAN'T BRING MYSELF
(Bartleby)
Can't bring myself to cross,
to pass the exit, to waver to
a stop. I just go on, do I?
There, where the big, round
tree once stood, now merely
the stump. There, where the
door was always open, now a
closed entry. Nothing more.
Can't bring myself to that.
Sit down and find the moment.
Think how words can be.
(Just ask Bartleby).
(Bartleby)
Can't bring myself to cross,
to pass the exit, to waver to
a stop. I just go on, do I?
There, where the big, round
tree once stood, now merely
the stump. There, where the
door was always open, now a
closed entry. Nothing more.
Can't bring myself to that.
Sit down and find the moment.
Think how words can be.
(Just ask Bartleby).
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