Alone

you can leave us alone
away from you in distant proximity
you placed us here
and we’re all busy bees
inventing
concocting
organizing
breaking
with our blinders up
heart never skips a beat
as this record keeps on spinning
as the sheep keep on bleating
and are sheared
maybe a scratchy voice on the radio
maybe a crumpled paper on a stage
maybe a U turn on an one way street
maybe some evaporating mist after the rain
keep our texts short
but they get lost in the depleting ozone
we wait for a reply like a farmer waiting for rain

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