turn on the way to work
and another ten years pass
each day ground into meal
for a bread as dry as chaff
such sustenance to feed
a bitterness into a beast
gnawing with dull teeth
on the tidbits of my heart
until little remains for love
to do except stand stunned
at the bored horror of it all
like vacant eyed refugees
waiting for dust of a passing
army to settle to the earth
(April 15, 2015)
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