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Prayer After Hours

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My knees are calloused,
and my shoulders tense.
Four missed calls,
eight voicemails.
(Not as many as You though)
One migraine,
two broken hearts,
three unpaid bills
five dimes,
six forgotten,
seven not known…
no hope.
Call me hunchback;
maybe it’s my posture
or maybe You don’t care,
but the silence of the floorboards
bawl their echoes:
why?

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