poem to me

I was walking when I found
someone’s discarded fortune
small white strip of forlorn future
stark against a cold concrete
I thought –

“How bad could it be?”

I took it to myself
and it told me to write
send letters to ones distant;
so I wrote this poem to me
cuz we haven’t spoken
for a long and lonesome while
which got me wondering –
how I was doing

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