Awake as the sun finally is settling down,
shake dust, November rust, comin’ round.
High waiting regard for any face and anytime,
Wicked of quiet, still can’t buy it, what exactly was my crime?
Dear God why is every day a cold open?
mind numb, guard down, smile frozen.
searching through abandoned words, spoken.
company naught, stolen, ego reduced swollen,
Repeated motion, get quite the notion,
why can’t we find an end to the cold open.
Living in hell of the silent dead of night,
push phrases, it all phases, nothings right.
Waiting for the ships that never come to port,
tall dreaming tales, all else fails, to kindly distort.
Dear God why is every day a cold open?
mind numb, guard down, smile frozen.
searching through abandoned words, spoken.
company naught, stolen, ego reduced swollen,
Repeated motion, get quite the notion,
why can’t we find an end to the cold open?
–Thomas Spychalski
Posted by Thomas Spychalski 
