Poem 837








Sometimes
we find
ourselves..
to be
the broken
record.

Playing
the same
old songs..
forward and
back.. just
wasting
seconds.

If only that
I knew a way
to fill the scratch
that makes it loop
the same motif.

Best I can do
is move the needle
past the damaged
groove it stumbled on..
so that it doesn’t
keep on skipping
on repeat.

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