Wednesday, February 1, 2017

Small Chance


If we turn we might see the sun set
On the remnant days of our short lives.
We might stand a small chance for redress.
But how could we have straddled those lies?
We and our cut up self importance;
Knowing everything but believing nothing.
We shape shift like water in a glass,
Trading dignity for hypocrisy,
We live for now denying tomorrow.
Our days are ephemeral like plumes of smoke.
We crossed bridges burned down the wrong ones,
Our tale’s cut out of a horror plot.
If we must reclaim the troves we lost,
We gatto stand up and make a choice;
We wandered far from home and purpose.
We must retrace our steps find our groove.
We can grow from concrete like a rose,
Dig deep and find new strength from our roots.


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