my feet propped on my wall
push the little piece of lime
down in my Pacifico
contemplating, resurrecting
the way it all turns out
burying ghosts, faceless hosts
those things that plague me most
why is it that I find myself
but it doesn't last that long
pack my bags, heading back
while the CD plays that song
maybe I should move there
stay forever on my beach
without cell phone calls no worries befall
just live my days in peace
Poetry by M.J.B. is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License
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