The words on this board —
Sixteen years old;
The writers,
Long-sleeping, I fear —

But this chalk, that’s the byword
For transcience,
Is somehow, some way,
Still here

It’s hard to know reasons
For what has been;
What’s lost,
What has yet to be built —

But somethings remain
That we can’t explain
Wrapped up in

Survivor’s guilt

Published by

Beleaguered Servant

Owen Servant is an online poet working in a style that's been described as "compulsive". In real life, he is an actuary, because being a poet wasn't unpopular enough.

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