Saturday, July 27, 2013

When Death Knocks

She can't get over it,
These conditions of life,
That will not change until death visits her,
With old age or the knife,

So most waking hours are now occupied,
And I bet sleeping, too,
Going over the same old arguments,
Of why the world should be structured anew,

But nothing will change 'cause it only does,
Once everything's embraced,
And you recognize how you fit in it,
Managing just with faith,

But she will not,
And things will never change,
She's built a prison up around herself,
Filled with self-pity, angst, regret and blame.

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