Randomly Written

Some pieces begin with a premeditated intention. The first line goes down with a clear direction in mind. That can be well forgotten or abandoned by the time the last line is penned. This piece was like that. An idea was seeded. By that last line, that idea was no longer applicable:

Dubious Day
He left at one in the
bereft of details
pockets stuffed with
idle hands
A song slipped off
his lips
His steps strode left
until his path was
crowded with
He left those woods
with a smirk on his face
and suspicion in his mind
But it was the easiest smile
he ever smiled
in his life.



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