Caveat: Poem #3201 “Tunnel vision”

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The world, it narrows till at last
 the only thing is lonely sleep.
All words will fail, and lost: the past.

The world, it narrows till at last
 the archive's hollow, empty, vast.
What's left: cliche, no meaning, cheap.

The world, it narrows till at last
 the only thing is lonely sleep.

– a triolet.


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