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A Loan Too Late

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Cassandra lend me your eyes
So I may see what you have seen
And protect my fragile buds
From those dry, withering glares.
Maybe then I can bring warning to the world.
Maybe then people will see.

Cassandra lend me your ears
So that I may hear what you heard
Those hoarse catcalls from jeering skeptics
And see how you responded.
Maybe then I can avoid your fate.
Maybe then I can save them.

Cassandra lend me your hands
Those gentle fingers calloused with the brush
That painted Apollo's rejection so long ago.
Give them to me now, for sacrifice to the gods.
Maybe then people will hear my warnings.
Maybe then people will stop the genocide.

Cassandra lend me your nose
So that I may smell what disbelief truly is
The stank odor of rotting lies
And sideways glances, never sure.
Maybe then I can avoid them.
Maybe then I can be heard.

Cassandra lend me your mouth
So that I may say the right things
And persuade those who do not listen
With the honeyed spur of bitter truth.
Maybe then they will help out.
Maybe then the world will change.

Cassandra lend me your pain
For now I am forsaken
And I have naught but that.
Cassandra we stand together.
Now I may lend you my eyes
My ears
My hands
My nose
My mouth
But I will not lend you my pain
For you have enough.




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