Poem -

What was familiar

It's almost impossible to find the path through the rubble.
All that was familiar is blown up or burned.
Visions blurred, these tears make it double.

It's hard to see clearly what's too focused.
As we weave in betwixt the drama and dogma, were trip on the baggage we both left around.

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Comments

author
Being Me

I feel such grief and sadness in this! Well written ... a brilliant volt in that last line. I am truly sorry for your loss x

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