March 13, 2017
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A child’s cries fill my ears
Harsh and shrill like a bomb
I am told to comfort
To sing for the thing
I shall not sing for
The sacrificial lamb
So fresh and new
Like a springtime lamb
Preparing for the next spring’s slaughter
Rosy cheeks and salty tears
One day to pale cheeks and no tears
In the casket it will lay
Cold and lifeless
Limp and unloved
Only remembered
For we are such great and terrible creatures
As our dire purpose is to die
And live our great and terrible purpose
Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow do not exist
We act our parts in the play of destiny
The show will end
And our great and terrible purpose
Will come true
So, child, hush your tears
Silence your cries
For false comfort I shall not provide
For your dear mockingbird
Will die
Along with it
You and I

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