A Thing Oft Forgotten

It’s lonely out here

lonely and blue

blue

blue

As long as the tears that have grew

 

Small and sandy

This desolate landscape,

                    The breeze

and the palms;

                    my tired knees,

my aching qualms

 

What do I say?

                    When do I flee?

                    Even when I had been rooted

                    Dreams were my forte

Nothing more, nothing less

 

It’s a long time coming:

the sun

                snow

                                smite of rust

I’ll wait for a while

                as I always have

 

For cities may rise,

Kings be crowned

Dictators

                may, will, shall

                                                fall

But all of this

                madness

                insanity

                revolution

Was not possible

Without hope,

 

A thing oft forgotten

In the face of tragedy,

                                agony,                 

                                malady.

This poem is about: 
Me
Our world

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