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Feb 2017
H  ow is it possible to have so much hate
A  midst all of those that I’m ordered to love.
T  orn by the need to stay here and fight-
R  eeling from weakness I thought I’d outlived,
E  dging towards a fall I must stop, I’m
D  odging the arrows, to keep keeping on.

F  rightened that I’m not as young or as smart,
O  lder than I ought to be at my age, I’m
R  emembering when I wielded weapons of youth.

M  y  armies of wit were were invincible then,
Y  et now only shadows of warriors past.

E  nemies bumping the sore spots they caused me, with
N  ever a thought or respect for my toil, I
E  nvy their callous neglect of my pain and
M  emorize odes to the loathing I feel.
I   light bonfires of hatred and hope not to get burned
E  scaping through tunnels of madness and fear into
S  afer environs where I can breathe free.
I love acrostics and have written many of them.  This was written after a VERY bad day at work.  For James.
Written by
Lori Jones McCaffery  F/California
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