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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