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Poems

Idiosyncrasy as an Ebbing Trait

She sits in a room filled with trash

With plastic leaves beneath her feet

 

Loyalty has been void in our country

Our parents taught us better

 

His thoughts wander like Jimmy Carter’s

He is ashamed at what he has not done

 

We drank, then turned our sunflowers black and blue

And now we drink no more

 

If only she could live with what has been done

Her pride is Luna in her cycles

 

We are arbitrarily waxing stained steel

Then waning as if she had been swallowed whole

 

He is not good with words, but they are for her

Please do not forgive us