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By John Sweet
7/22/02
rain
just after midnight
and the sound of
geese moving south
my own quiet breathing
in a dark room
the fact of
20,000 innocent people
brutally murdered
cannot stop the slow
approach of winter
there is always
something stronger
than this luminous
shell of faith
the poet avoiding confessions
By John Sweet
awake and mostly blind
at two in the morning
in a house where
nothing fits quite right
cold
ashamed of my
twenty-two years spent
feeding a pointless addiction
but unable to quit
unwilling maybe or
maybe afraid
nothing is ever gained
by putting
the truth on paper
Copyright © 2002 John Sweet
John Sweet, 33, lives in upstate New York with his wife and son. He has been writing for 20 years, and publishing in the small press for 14. For more about him, visit his Web site.