Within our daily echelons, we may
Go wandering from where we really are:
For though love starts in fantasy,
It isn't meant to really end that way.
But all this isolation has begot
A whirl of nothings, dressed up as the world
That people fight and die for, everyday,
Not knowing that the cure contains
The rot
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Tagged: Tags Perspective Poetry Social Commentary
Published by Beleaguered Servant
Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure.
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