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sometimes it takes

nothing making sense
anymore, someone loving
you, killing you slowly
without seeing you,
victory looking and
feeling a lot like
surrender, catastrophic
intricacies like vein
on a leaf, life marching
onward, us doomed to return
to our hives, working,
always toiling toward
our annihalation,
thinking in our minds
that we will be different
while in our hearts
knowing we are not,
watching winged beings
rise above and look
upon us below, us
ourselves, conscious of
this disparity, this
undemocratic
dispersement by
God, some having
wings some only
having faith, faith which
while inspiring, ultimately
will lead us off
the cliff, embedding
us, entombed
into the earth.

 

 – April 2, 2003

©2006 Jamie Gross | All Rights Reserved