October 31, 2011
And each to each they whisper
just as Thomas said they would.
I hung on the outskirts, my life
time spent in a wasteland of
despair and longing,
while the snicker snack of
false words rained down
upon the true rock I so loved.
And the words come and go
speaking of that which I know not.
And so I sit to eat a peach,
or perhaps a mango,
leaving the antagonist
to sputter
to mutter
to wonder if it was worth it after all.

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