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You can never go home again.

Discussion in 'Anything goes' started by Versatile, Dec 20, 2014.

  1. Versatile

    Versatile Active Member

    And the end came after most died.
    An infrequency of substance
    left the stragglers to divide
    hopes and jobs by thumbprints.
    Disorientated, we tried
    in a claustrophobic republic
    with amendments denied —
    swollen hearts, empty stomachs.

    Smiles sanitized in the evening
    by our saviors. But saving grace
    proved more difficult than keeping
    track of a princess amid a sea of waifs.
    Bitter aroma: coffee and semen
    and unrealized potential. Stains
    on the fabric of what bereavement
    has gone lost in the white space.
     
    Amy likes this.
  2. Starman

    Starman Well-Known Member

    You might be right?
     
  3. Boom_70

    Boom_70 Well-Known Member

    After the first terror people
    Were more helpful to each other—
    As in a blizzard

    Much comradeliness, help, even
    laughter:
    The pride of getting through tough times.

    Even, months later,
    When snow fell in June,
    We felt a kind of pride in
    our
    “Unusual weather”
    And joked about the wild geese
    Migrating south,
    Quacking over the 4th of July presidential honking.
    It was, people said,
    The way it had been in the Old Days…

    Until the hunger of the next year.
    Then we came to our senses
    And began to kill each other.
     
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