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Sad Ground

Concrete waves,
Waves so dense,
The bull's eye is hit,
With the dart unbent.
Order in the court,
About face, boot up,
Role lucky dice,
And then join the club.
The weeping dove,
Sits on the sad ground,
Looking for love,
But no one left in town.
What is history?
A work in progress?
It moves on,
But you really can't stop it.
Are things getting better?
Like the feelings of our galaxy?
It seems so lonely,
But yet I'm still happy.
Testing the ground,
Upon which I dwell,
I can't travel far,
But I can walk very well.

©1999-2019 Steve Bujanow

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Copyright©1999-2019 Steve Bujanow, Neocortex. All Rights Reserved.

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