A Crow Named Anxiety

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A Crow Named Anxiety

A Crow named Anxiety

Lunges at my throat ungracefully

Each day She and I become

As the Little Prince and the Fox

Ever more familiar

With the summer gone, I am in autumn

Winter is coming to stay

Have the days been for naught?

Are the yearnings of the soul to fall

Forever on ears that are full

Of the mutterings and rumblings

Wait, it is too much, time is flying

Is past, is gone, you are here

Sitting on a chair

Staring into nothingness

Sick with loneliness

Drinking vitamins

Plucking and pulling

At follicles and fibres

Longing for

Someone

Anyone

Except

Me


Jose Gamboa

12. November 2015
Barcelona
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