Today I wrote a sad story.
About this fella (who I named Sam) and why he is alone…
…here in this room with the wallpaper that reminded him of home and his own beat down mother.
I wrote… a fragment… of Sam’s story today.
And spent some time with T.S. Eliot because I kept hearing a certain refrain….
The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/poems/detail/44212
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I wish I was born a hundred years ago.