ThunderA Poem by Owl### Thunder
I'm offered congratulations Behalf my speed, choice of words. They say I'm holding it Together.
I rubbed pyrite To learn the touch Of falsehood: Cold stomach-sickness.
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They all spit. Each conversation Leaks water Into my barrel.
This water must leave Through the eyes Or the fist Or the brow.
These days, I just scream For all the times I couldn't.
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When we woke up in the summer My brother was out on the lake In his little metal boat Afloat on the tiny lake
I saw lightning Spike its clean water That very night
I call to him But he cannot Hear me.
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