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Weathered

As a flag, left to the ravages of wind and sun,

so too my soul, stands tattered and ravaged.

My visage now a faded memory

of once courageous colors.

My voice no longer crisp, nor upbeat.

But weak and undefined.

No longer do I instill nor evoke,

a sense of power or purpose.

 

I am easily dismissed as useless, unnecessary.

 

Yes, once I was the strong flag,

that laughed in the wind with a quick

snap and whip crack determination.

 

That was years and many storms ago.

Now, I give into the wind,

with a defeated wave

and the sound of a sigh.

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Written by
paula-swanson
American
Published
Jul 4, 2012
Lines·Words
16·103
Permission

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