Wednesday, June 3, 2020
His
Dream
His
dream
Was
a flickering spasm;
More
of a death shiver
Than
a promise.
His
old bones still chatter
But
why listen anymore?
It’s
not his throat
They’re
stepping on.
Muscle
up
While
you’re still living.
He
couldn’t save himself.
He
can’t protect us now.
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