The Smoke From Another Stranger's Gun

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I cross a subway,

it was quiet–

I found a sense of agony

from the silence

for I have lived 

with no sound

for years

and ages,

maybe centuries.


Strangers

can't make me happy.


It was

a short minute

before 

my agony

diminished

into a sweet, 

sweet sound

of a bullet

from another stranger's gun.


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