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Paraluman Aug 2015
Ano nga ba ang buhay? Isang kahibangan,
What is life? A mania,
Ano nga ba ang buhay? Isang ilusyon,
What is life? An illusion,
Isang anino, isang kasinungalingan,
A shadow, a lie
At ang malalaking biyaya'y maliliit pa rin,
And the biggest blessings is still small,
Dahil ang buhay ay isa lamang pangarap,
Because life is only a dream,
At ang pangarap ay pangarap lamang.
*And a dream is only a dream.
Found this poem in an ad inside a train. Original piece is written in Español.
Zeeshan Aug 2017
With thunders and lighting,
We bid farewell to the home,
Deserving the European chrome.

The rivals celebrated the win,
We wept in deep sorrow,
Not of defeated, Neither humiliation,
It was something far important,
Our home, died, on a night
even the sky cried.

The night, we won,
Yet lost everything we had,
There was deep sorrow somewhere,
In a city lit up with festive joy,
Thats where Vicente Calderon was,
The home to Los RajiBlancos.
A quick tribute to Vicente Calderon, the home to Club Atletico de Madrid for 51 years...
A José Maria de Heredia


Ce poète terrible et divinement doux,

Plus large que Corneille et plus haut que Shakespeare,

Grand comme Eschyle avec ce souffle qui l'inspire,

Ce Calderon mystique et mythique est à nous.


Oui, cette gloire est nôtre et nous voici jaloux

De le dire bien haut à ce siècle en délire :

Calderon, catholique avant tout, noble lyre

Et saints accents, et bon catholique avant tous,


Salut ! Et qu'est ce bruit fâcheux d'académies,

De concours, de discours, autour de ce grand mort

En éveil parmi tant de choses endormies ?


Laissez rêver, laissez penser son Œuvre fort

Qui plane, **** d'un siècle impie et ridicule,

Au-dessus, au delà des colonnes d'Hercule !
Midnight Confession to Stingray  III  

And suddenly awake. i think i heard the phone ring, but long ago that no stingray called me; it would be absurd. who call a forgotten man, yearny of themselves?. And suddenly awake and crying i wonder what i have done to live this. why i can not die? what's stopping me? god kills for pleasure, i would do it out of necessity. i end with my life and the importance of being earnest.
    
Outside roars the sea. the waves claim my life, my life claim it and head on a silver platter the almighty, responsible to no justice. ha! justice. Consign it everything to god is to add an extra shadow existence. whenever i get depressed i confirmed the existence of nowhere. already said my old friend Andrei, "the soul craves harmony, while the world, reality, life, are full of dissonance".
    god! i do not want any harm to feed my humor. and i tell you because i know that fate is but the unilateral decision of a supreme being, without the intervention of the creature that falls. you and your **** decisions!
  
I must then settle the illusory permanence of my bad steps taken. after all, the man has not been done to exemplify rebelliousness.
Insert - cans carrier some catching film and rolls a finger cuts / , looking at his finger and begins to move circularly, leaving his palace versailles topic decorated, full of blood stigma. then  an arm and his shadow the succor envelops faucet cracked.

insert final -
you always give back things to their original order, no matter what man does or does not do. when the world ends, will only continue the deserted streets where consummating the drama of solitude, loneliness of man. solitude, that awe you feel your son, more powerful even than the fear of death. loneliness, ontophanicus element of childhood fears and unrecognized face of the adult human animal.


Insert - Snifp    opens window, moist your hands with rain, seals his hands, making a drinking vessel of your hands. someone you back then close was noting his eyelids his old love visiting him - Snifp shudders take turns and trafficking in their eyes hands that image. followed gets humming a ditty ... continuing with your thought the song of your song - only the first two lines sing, the rest is with musical pacing phraseology showing on time images:

  "  maybe everything is reduced to ideas. the great wars and the huge advances in the history of mankind are due to them... what is most important for the soul to believe in change? the flowering of ideas! proclaim them the wind and see how they are trampled, but when they die, they will be remembered by them.
    yes, i know, when my turn comes, or not taking into account what you have said, i must kneel before you. "

Insert - Snifp - in your room like versailles, kneeling before the accompanying idol behind his cabin. it was a huge torrent cans with film rolls. some were leaving your movies its packaging. on the upper part of torrent was an eye that turn that also glinted colors and eye on pared scenes showed pictures romance film and expressionist cinema.

  " something happened with spring and winter, only took one night to erase my life. everything i've done, everything i am has been solely because of my insecurity even look at my letter, is confused, irregular, insecure, unfinished, unfinished, ugly to my way of translating the letters on paper it is unsafe. That's why i am where i am. it may not be the best, but it's comfortable. i should not deal with anyone but my ghosts. "

Composition: the whole song - this song in passive voice - before each pause they call Snipf, her father, her mother, she the same calling it self doing choir with letter of the song telling you enter is late and that not early to work everyday continuing - voice feels off, but the darkness appears immensity of arms in clothes ragged and *****, treating him to speak. every aspect of song be supported by allusive as a documentary imagine.

[insert images]: Mr Snifp. this in a paramo isolated, everything smells rancid stink and essence with her mouth glottis churned a finger as mayor, the three items that were deposited in calderon reddened by flare. Their beards 90 cm, crisscrossed end of pointed shape. mr. Snipf it took out glottis your hands together his cross to remove the book and the lenses pipe. While he continued impetuously making this movement of his arms, lashed out on the top step your home room your nearest death, and if it was confused casket 60 cm or a 2 mts. such was the fan accession that uttering which carried from the limbo of house untouchable pantheon, but it was not, all the servants threw it out of doors sliding down the cobblestones, while Snifp kicking as if to take revenge until the last priest perpetuity oblation gave to your existence non tyranny.Still getting off cobblestones, planters keep falling, cornices. carnations falling on follow your body wood caged.

Removing Snifp appears in Calderon lenses, pipe and the book, but this time he has in his hand left the book, and pipe right. but when child, walk the avenue where would buy tidbits, seeing through the showcase  the owner of the commercial always had in his right hand a book and left a pipe.

Snifp lying on his altar Calderon churned with thousands of books, lenses and pipes, falling to tiring and suddenly the ground with his right hand possessing a book of phrenology and left a pipe smoky reddish. it was so faint Snipf and only with boiling essences smelly around.

[insert end].

Zooantropomorphic Basic Kinetic Theory:

In the room, three and a hommo sapiens stingrays. Located facing each other. how to illustrate and in between them appearance with animals, and acting daily activities.

Every stingray, is an object and subject to time, the eyes of Snifp, but more remarkable is that each of them can auto refer, as having instincts and feelings, which alternately men intimidate and used in a extended range of possessions and physical, and electromagnetic powers psychic. "

Snipf in the room seemed feeling redeemed, because they came to help him, came to the town of his abode. A hold a escape. but to think and think and read what rugs you wrote on the wall concerning this theory, he reminded inescapably on fatigue years of thinking, to nearly multiply your ideas on every beat of your heart as an avalanche in your own heart

And they continued typing:

... Thousands of years sail the seas for fixing without ours where our dreams console conditions. we have seen many events, births islands, shipwrecks _ at that time Snifp, he takes the head and can not believe what you tell manta rays, being very shock and sorrow.

He told ...: as you, enjoyed the freedom to grow and believe in my labors happiness. up next to toasted you hiding the sun my skin. trying to follow them confine of the seas as well wishing one day be as you but i saw growing up and that my gaps growth .
interrupts writing one of them on the wall:

... Birds and we seem confused in the sky and the sea. its movement is a great similar  infinitely ours. by instance. for reproduce places and we are in very favorable temperatures. Our food to go for a  tractile  movements resort in places, where our hunger and thirst unite to hunt our prey. There are certain movements, seemed birds river near the sea; with love that in a small ball enjoying our offspring thousands of kilometers from hunting place chosen.

My father strand a day in the pacific sea rivera, seeing some odd birds in groups, moving choreography of side to side, changing their appearance or disordering composition, rare birds when they reached another species, but enough with birds are you were visiting for them with their move to, they give the spectator the camouflage invisibility, violated them to be your space.

Snifp: but the move with air allays tour and return either in any direction. and when i feel abandoned by my wishes of faith or of love, which will be the right move?. One of them says: the movement may not porte nothing, or also something ruined, importantly possessing energy for all be alive call the highest levels rising to pay for that move your body energy; something like love for fuel survive, perhaps not frustrating not to have to turn disoriented when we storms at sea with boats and we want trap, without relying on a moment to pray, to save our destinations. Snifp, think that as you suffer, it happens to us. the blankets impassive, floating on the piece and brought them to Snifp the miles genealogies and exhausted by origins of existence.The cornerstone of movement, time division yours and mine, separated by both affected synchronicity things for immense currents.

Snifp replY: if, if you !!. but both to animals we  vanished others because you have eyes for men only see your interests.
Snifp as if you are thinking _ ourselves the told, what confusion ... not !!.

Then  in men, animals are invisible visible and motion forms. But yes, each generation of movements different article, since each margin regarding your drive specific functions  changing the man, what you plenty of activity what to generate be blinded  no recalling the advancement finally  to not to repeat their mistakes. Snipf words in good men living in a house of fears caused by collective and not totally bad habits subjugations evolved animals. An animal, a being who owned and self contained and do nothing  not self  supply materiality.

We do not pray to  God, just keep your policy creation and preservation, just keep your commands as a whole to vibrate, knowing and ignoring sometimes. This is our Creator. Stingrays sailing in my Mind  and in  the spreading architectural dreaming.
FINAL  MIDNIGHT CONFESSION TO STINGRAY-  Under edition
raj Jan 2015
Atletico’s progress to this stage has been somewhat sloppy to say the least, following a second leg showing at the Vicente Calderon which allowed minnows CE L’Hospitalet to walk away with an historic 2-2 draw.

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The loss at Valencia on Sunday for a near full strength Real Madrid returning from victory at the Club World Cup and a winter break came as a shock to everyone.

A title race is well and truly on again this season so it may come as some relief for the players of both camps to lock horns away from La Liga.

Failures for both Barcelona and Real Madrid at the weekend mean Atletico are level on points with Barcelona, each a point behind leaders Real but Carlo Ancelotti’s side do have a game in hand.
Watch Real Madrid vs Atletico Madrid live stream here. we provide you free streaming links here. Check out the active links here.
Tahnee Calderon Jan 2014
I want to sit in a room
And watch the days turn to night

I want to watch the shadows dance in circles
Around the room
Time and time again

I want never to have to get up
To use the bathroom, eat, or shower

I want to give in to the endless chains
Of hopelessness

I want to just sit there
And not have to answer

Just sit there
And feel
The Gold light, the deep dark, and the twilight

I want to sit there
And watch the world pass
As I crumble with each tick of the clock

While I sit there I do not want
Neither your pity nor your condolences for
My wasted life

I want you to take my energy
Like you did time and time before

But…

I want you to take it
And use it to fix
The things in your life that are broken

Use it to make you happy

Because I…

Because happiness refused me
Because it was a tease a time ago

Or

Because I did not love it back like I should have

Because misery seduced me
And then chained me up in its basement

I want to sit there
Because
I could not answer the…
The most complicated question
Are you ok?

Without tearing myself
From the inside

Tahnee Calderon
Today, however, i intend to conquer death. i intend to travel to another dimension being myself. this morning i was lost without his green look. finally the sun was seduced by the darkness, those harboring my soul, and against which fought against succumbing in my attempt to reconnect with her.

   They have been years of depression and grief. and to think that the separation between happiness and melancholy is the thickness of the blade of a knife. for many this has been a reality. for me, however, it was overcome temptation. at the time of his death, my mind could not stop thinking that every day of my life it would no longer be with me. when she died i almost could not find reason to say his name. each time i called in my nights of despair seemed to me that it met all the most beautiful sounds in a word ...

   ... But hey, i'm still here. i have faith, and i have come to think that faith is believing in something when common sense says otherwise. i miss her so much, but i am also grateful to him for all the time he gave me to share it with her. i cried while i had, and when i lost her, i cried ...
   ... my love! your memory has stolen as many nights sleep ... life is an interval between two indecipherable nothings, nothing before and nothing the next. and so i feel the anguish of being alone, that penetrates my conscience as a needle. mr.snifp   throwing your air soft tooted.

insert images 4
[age children - at home] after playing with their favorite toys, snipf go around all your room. see they were ordered, and each is already told not need it, because began his new stage of growth. meanwhile, his father invited sailing in a boat near your home. snifp fishing with your fixture canopy ran down his father, and his father said that if he continued with that, he would be the first fish to be caught. the jumps on his father quikly and hugs - poor snifp already tormenting fears and neglect !!, but his father holds tight and kisses him again and again. his father tells calming him. "a time i will your next entertainment".

   Thinking that perhaps love is an unstable feeling, whose unique nature is perpetual mutation. but there was the secret of our union. we were always the same, and we liked to be that way.'uff think i doing effect of medicine, creo mover tons trillion in my mouth ocean, looking north ocean salivate carrying bacteria armored mounted on bacteria gnawed themselves ... !!

and if i say i really know you, what could you say? if only you were here, here today. knowing you, perhaps you would laugh and say that my words are worthless. if you were here, here today. but i still remember like it was all before and i restrain myself, lest my eyes sprout tears ...

... What happened to the days when we laughed and we played? you never understand anything, but still were together. what happened to those nights when the moonlight coming through your window, bathing your face with your aura? never you understood my words, but you were always there with a smile.

[ellipsis - short - meeting of their souls - what would have happened if they had known within the facility]

In a day of solar eclipse, met her. she was the sun and shadow me. suddenly they met both, until joined us another suicide element; it was a golden key that came giant in a ball of light. be assumed would open our sky and bedroom. and at that moment ...: _ the director proposes recompose the scene _ then studio light dazzles that sub - light, clobbering our eyes. she and snipf face off against, and they both really like, now the shadow and sun was light as a halftones del carmine dazzled cleaned. orchestrating snipf skipping your heart, his face paled and after several reprimands director, and newly entered in si belatedly. she smiled and lowered his head and rie contentedly.

[end ellipsis].
  
Every moment is gone from my hands was covered by the sands of my regret, streaking the walls of your soul to put in you, in your memory, which clamored for goodness me.
   the nights i've dreamed of you like me you appear dressed in white, one dancing ghostly figure of rare beauty, while the wind blows and burning the hills, where the languages disappear and flowers hallow ... i try to keep a mental reincarnation hold of my sanity and make me leave my safe cloister, through which i survived ...
   ... i could not live thinking of another woman, even one day.
   walk down the path has been long, and no one will cry blood for me. mistify all piety practiced baptism without speaking ...

[in flash] - projection simulated -

Adulthood - graduates of the faculty - she sat in her legs. after several hours lounged of some dances  philippines dance, whose movements were causing discomfort their current desire to continue with party. asks the car keys to go to find that some cigarettes had been given, so she and exchanging keys snifp their cars. and before leaving, decide found near the sea. near the sea snipf feel your pet blew necklace snipf, roles as exchanging for that snipf run and drool by the sands and the sea your wicked game beside her. . it stops to think that, and she takes behind.

   ... how i would think that the female being, that ideal that god and man dreamed of since ancient times, and at the end of the life of a man becomes everything that has sought, never disappear.
   how i would like to believe that essence that pervades the living soul, is once transmutes every hundred years, to see the end, in the middle of a dream summer from heaven they have fallen into your hair those mysterious rays in that woman's face, bathed in raindrops hit the ground turned into tears.
   it is in the soul, dwells somewhere in this universe, and sometimes do not need me.

   The feminine being, what the world craves, and that is almost incomprehensible, can only be reached by a man in every century. my search began early. i lost, and i have not finished.maybe the eclipse of truth will come now.
   my mind dreams with open eyes, and i can see your silhouette floating in a vacuum, and i can not help but talk like a child and looking at you as a man, as the search engine of your being, because i have the heart in each place they trod ; if all my blood is like a swollen river of love.

   if you are away from your memory it is. when you were close was your presence. therefore there was always something in you that enveloped my soul with a haze, which i do not want to try out.
   woman! with a look of yours if you crossed me the soul, and the dreamy whisper of your voice was like ripples on a calm lake. would like to hear your silence again, see your sleepy eyes and count words maybe i'll never say.
   how i would think that every man will have his being. but that's idealism, so spare me. optimism hundred percent verges on stupidity.

I remember the last night we were together, before being separated by distance. he moved his family had to go south. and after a year of romance and dreams everything was going to lose. I remember coming home and seeing all the beloved objects in boxes. until then, never in my life had felt so sorry. it was christmas eve, and there would be nothing to celebrate on that occasion. moreover, since then i never celebrated these holidays.

Ellipsis - "the greatest happiness of snifp" - comes home an insurance salesman, the manager receives proposal. the let’s at her desk, as they fell ashes of his pipe on the envelope. snifp kept writing. standing and looking on opens. reading the content and smiling uproariously. va rises to bank takes all savings and invests in small and loose film archives disaggregated, which were owned by a collector. with the rest, bought a motor scooter, which was behind a small deposit to carry small loads. filling the pond, buy wine and cheese. after party without destination highways that if for long enters a southern city.

Enters  does a little tour. until it reaches a cathedral. there was a director, leading a small choir, back, semi musicians around the pool. curiously in between was a woman very close to it. snifp are about to vitral, and backlit start simulate in unison the sounds mouthfuls of wandering the sites involved. the leading mimicked, strong to your arms movements with same music interval it stops, leaning against a column, to convince if i were really she. slowly, slowly, snifp approaches her and sits beside her. says: i am snifp, she looks and strange, the rises, smiles and leaves. but its immense imagery, its immense emotion unified makes influence it. she immediately, ascribes a state of grace, it will comfort her and hugs. both they embrace. under no circumstances blaspheme his three blankets golden the reencounter spanks by them, but not forever. but his greatest happiness was annulling of trails candidly created by generated by their parents, rather, he became a believer and reordering of their abilities asleep. he knew the physical resources scuttled, but if there a new opportunity to live not miss it next to her, so not to lose or waste this time insurance beside her. he became a believer and reordering of their abilities asleep. he knew the physical resources scuttled, but if there a new opportunity to live not miss it next to her, so not to lose or waste this time insurance beside her. he became a believer and reordering of their abilities asleep. he knew the physical resources scuttled, but if there a new opportunity to live not miss it next to her, so not to lose or waste this time insurance beside her.

   They went at dawn, but still could hang out with her. we walked, we gave mutual encouragement, separation would not be so short, we were going to see soon. i would travel at the earliest, would call for christmas and would send my letters the day after his departure. we sat on a bench in the middle avenue. people circulating quickly with shopping bags. vehicles pass did not stop us. it was cold. i warm up your hands in mine and gave them my breath. when looking into your eyes saw what i hate most in this life, tears. we could not contain ourselves, and not ashamed, for the first time i cried in front of a woman.

   And i cried all those days.
time has calmed the faint wound, when the whisper of the world touched his premise. singular dream cloud passing through the western sky when it becomes dance all fears. green water are stretched his hands without mockery. friendly land, give me your singing .... i still dream, give me this life.
   how many times i screamed your name to the wind, breaking the silence misty harbor, calling no more voice than my memories, wanting to feel that you no longer die of pain that is enveloping me ?.

Insert 5 - snipf (degraded)
in and absolute soledad colder snipf was hovering around calderon, if you wanted to take it, would be like a shrew trying to claim your destination.
   how much i wanted to forget your hate and cry out to your mind just forgetfulness, not to wander more between your eyes and stop getting lost in your tears, silent martyrdom of my fingers.

this first letter never sent. i did not dare to be so bitter. i could not travel as fast as i would have liked. his eagerness to see me began to be an ordeal, and this would mark much of our journey together; the impossibility of being close and always face the fact and accept this situation.
    
Instead, i wrote other words, perhaps more sweetened, but less full of guilt: moon night waiting for the soul to pray and answer the call of dawn will i be able to expect your touch again?
   come quickly to the call. come to the dark cover of night, when they sleep forest and sun when the stars of heaven just look at you.
   night descends quickly and wrap your shadow; fog cover it, oh night with your night time already approaching.
   do not let her realize that without their long lineage no longer beautiful, and culminates before his eyes hidden mannerism of a star.
   oh night with your night time, deflowers your thoughts and pour into honey. remember this i dreamed since i saw her, from the moment i opened my eyes in the middle of your night time it was close.

I'm thirsty. death absorbed all the liquid from my body. a drop of life left in this frame. sometimes at night, i have visions when anguish seizes my reason. during sleep the overwhelming thirst makes me see myself flying flush with the ocean. it's me. it's my body, but when trying to drink the water my tongue becomes a stingray ... and their fins are formed other stingrays! my voracious tongue consumes a large wave the water needed to live. my tongue is a horizontal army that steals the sea.

" Dresses and throwing acids on one another, they were joined by corketear clavicles, pretending to be vomited chains forgotten by god a tyrant -
these not forgive the unforgivable your starperson
forgive the shadow of your arcaica esfingial figure, parent your food channel dilating essence of your fears and fearless ... "
TO BE CONTINUED...
Isaac Peña Jan 2018
It has been so long since the last time I've met a soul that is worth wasting hours of sleep upon.
How long has it been since I've seen innocence reflected on my pupils.
Where would the muses whom inspired masterpieces of poetry be?
Or at least someone who can alleviate the ache of writing without a reason.
Where's my Venus?
Where's my Beatrice?
Or can someone just send me a Valkyrie to take me away from this impulsive feeling of digging through languages looking for a pretty rhyme.
Infinite words drop from my heart at the beat I walk through this somber streets.
Blank verses that I let slip through my fingers that if carved in image of the right maiden they could achieve their potential and shine.
How long ago has it been since I haven't polish something worth to show the whole world.
And it is that maybe I'm looking for them in the wrong places.
Maybe she is hiding in a corner of a library dying her soul red with some baroque literature.
Maybe she is hanging dreams from the tips of her hair reading Calderon de la Barca.
Or she could be painting countless worlds on her eyelids with some Marquez...
Yes, that could be it. 
Maybe she is hidden between heart and shadow.
And I am here wasting myself away, walking through these ****** streets with three black clouds hovering above me, and two ravens singing along about lack of love.
Isaac Peña Jan 2018
It has been so long since the last time I've met a soul that is worth wasting hours of sleep upon.
How long has it been since I've seen innocence reflected on my pupils.
Where would the muses whom inspired masterpieces of poetry be?
Or at least someone who can alleviate the ache of writing without a reason.
Where's my Venus?
Where's my Beatrice?
Or can someone just send me a Valkyrie to take me away from this impulsive feeling of digging through languages looking for a pretty rhyme.
Infinite words drop from my heart at the beat I walk through this somber streets.
Blank verses that I let slip through my fingers that if carved in image of the right maiden they could achieve their potential and shine.
How long ago has it been since I haven't polish something worth to show the whole world.
And it is that maybe I'm looking for them in the wrong places.
Maybe she is hiding in a corner of a library dying her soul red with some baroque literature.
Maybe she is hanging dreams from the tips of her hair reading Calderon de la Barca.
Or she could be painting countless worlds on her eyelids with some Marquez...
Yes, that could be it.
Maybe she is hidden between heart and shadow.
And I am here wasting myself away, walking through these ****** streets with three black clouds hovering above me, and two ravens singing along about lack of love.
TOD HOWARD HAWKS Sep 2020
We spend roughly one third of our lives asleep. What does that mean? I suppose that means different things to each of us, things that are different, but at the same time, in all cases integral to our lives, variations on the same thing, if you will. Freud thought that one-third was the most important of all three. Many of us find our dreams are meaningful, not necessarily in a clinical way, but in a personal way, and therefore meaningful nonetheless. Perhaps surreal is an apposite word to use in the latter cases:  former girlfriends, in my case, appear in many of my dreams, sometimes erotically, other times in a symbolic way it seems. Other dreams appear enigmatically, ones that are hard to tell what their import is;  they are not unlike clips from Ingmar Bergman movies. Some people say they never dream;  my guess is that they do, but for unknown reasons, they unconsciously repress them all, easier, I suspect, for them for various reasons. Pedro Calderon de la Barca wrote LA VIDA ES SUENO (LIFE IS A DREAM). Perhaps he had the answer.

Copyright 2020 Tod Howard Hawks
A graduate of Andover and Columbia College, Columbia University, Tod Howard Hawks has been a poet, an essayist, a novelist, and a human-rights advocate his entire adult life.
Lawrence Hall Nov 10
Lawrence Hall, HSG
Mhall46184@aol.com

       Veterans’ Day / Remembrance Day - An Old G.I. Belt Buckle


        For Storekeeper Third Class Thomas of Knoxville, Tennessee

                                 “What he believed, he did.”

                                          -Laurence Binyon,
                              “In Memory of George Calderon”


An old belt buckle in the back of a shelf
Greening brass on a belt now much too short
Maybe the same one I wore on the Vam Co Tay
Scattered thoughts shift to Thomas; I don’t know why

A good man with a clipboard and a fifty-cal
Sitting on the edge of a bunk feeding a child
Spooning c-rats and making the kid laugh
“One for meeee…and one for youuuu!”

I wonder whatever happened to good ‘ol Thomas
I wonder whatever happened to the child

I wonder whatever happened to all of us

— The End —