there's a hundred thousand people I haven't met today <br />scribbled on old scraps of paper that I meant to throw away <br />they're getting farther from the truth that I wish for them to be <br />but none of them are me <br /> <br />behind every sorry ending that I forgot to become <br />he started draining through my eyes until we blurred into one <br />they were statues made of salt and crawling to the sea's verge <br />begging to submerge <br /> <br />out of all the times and places I am here and I'm now <br />made of all the stars and galaxies who just couldn't bow <br />to the will that god invented but cannot recall how <br />just pray without doubt<br /><br />Wes Thompson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/you-remind-me-of-2/
