Grief
This is the season to mourn,
As the leaves fall among the dusty streets
And children’s noses are filled with snot and
At night their tiny chests wrack with cough
This is the time to cry, the days so sad and short
The nights so sad and short
And memories that have not been buried resurrect to torment
The pain-filled souls
This is the time to stare
The two-thousand-yard stare into the abyss called the future
Bleak and filled with horrors
And pray to the ever-silent God
Who mocks? Cries? Or delights at our plight
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