The Atrium

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I see your face like marathon reruns

Highlighted in the morning paper

Called out on the school loud speaker

I hear your voice like the firing of guns

Spike on the heart monitor

Running to break the odometer

I smell a familiar scent

Flowing in the air like a river overflow

I am the banks and trenches that bestow

All I given has been spent

Cemented in the ground like a parking lot

Cars driving, stopping, and forgetting

me