Penning poems for posterity,
Heroically, I bounded down the bus
Without pausing to look back
And reflect
Upon the seat
From which I flew
So impetuously
At what I left -
My gloves.
Captive of my own levity,
Drunk on intellectuality,
Full of flippant sincerity,
Whipped from behind by reality.
My fingers don't feel a thing,
Until my heart floods them again.
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