good morning, all anonymous thinkers

anonymity in the belfry
i go wincing down the block
and find myself altogether languid
and out of stock characters
so here i am writing
of no one at all
can you guess where protagonists lean?
against walls: james dean
on me: bill withers
and so since there’s sunshine
now she’s gone
and i tell it again
like it was nothing but nowhere to no one
i lead you with no pen
and thus do not fence you in
but leave you slipping
so you don’t slide away

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