(x = space)

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The Real Thing

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I am not in the war

Except

With my mind and heart

My contributions

Here and there

Not for a winner

But for everything

To cease

While there are citizens

And innocence

To count

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I can’t imagine an explosion

(over me

and I am done)

Next to me

So that I live

But everything is changed

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For what

And whom I’ve lost

All basic things

And anything

Refined

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A world that’s there

Even to know

The risks in temporality

And to persist

Then what I know

Is gone

And I am hurt

My body

And my mind

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I might get fixed

But something will not mend

Something broken

That the screws

And prayers

Cannot reward

With success

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Some part of me

Who wonders now

A beggar on the plane

Of dreams

And real hours

When I dance

With hate

And seeming

Justification

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For it all

To have happened

And it’s happened

So that

There’s an end

Before the end

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C L Couch

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Photo by Jeff Kingma on Unsplash

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