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It does not seem so strange, this current age. A Generation of Amazing Things And yet it is impossible to own The things that we have lost while we have grown Just sit in thoughtful silence in a bar: Those Meeting Houses, Dens of Ill Repute And listen to the hum of conversation And feel the emptiness in their vibration It does not take a skilled interpreter A master linguist or psychologist To feel the paint that’s chipping from the wall; the rot that has begun to claim us all Look up, look out, connect, and know that pain Will be the saving grace to keep us sane.
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Jan 31, 2014
Jan 31, 2014 at 9:14 AM UTC
Sonnet: On What We've Lost
It does not seem so strange, this current age. A Generation of Amazing Things And yet it is impossible to own The things that we have lost while we have grown Just sit in thoughtful silence in a bar: Those Meeting Houses, Dens of Ill Repute And listen to the hum of conversation And feel the emptiness in their vibration It does not take a skilled interpreter A master linguist or psychologist To feel the paint that’s chipping from the wall; the rot that has begun to claim us all Look up, look out, connect, and know that pain Will be the saving grace to keep us sane.
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Jan 31, 2014
Jan 31, 2014 at 9:14 AM UTC
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