my loss
is upon me.
I
see no beauty in the rose.
no glory
in the clouds.
I walk
along the green
hills
of the cemetery
and feel
nothing for those
below the tilted white
stones.
I let the wind
fly
against my open
collar.
the road ahead is
not
clear.
the road behind me
is where, again,
i don't want to go.
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