We didn’t know the dark
would be so cold,
but we clung to it,
our pride a vine of briars.
Never shed a tear
that went unheralded;
we shared our pain,
so much,
with so many.
When it came time for us
to stand and move on,
we found those thorns
had laid deep roots
into the ground,
and when we tried
to pull them out,
they tore our flesh.
Oh, how we cried then!
Tears mingled with blood
and some of us begged for death.
Even in the light of day,
now,
we sit pitiful
in our harm.
Clung to all we were
for so long,
now all we are,
is a home for rats
and sometimes
pygmy owls.
At best,
our tale is cautionary,
at worst,
a discarded monument.
Neglect has the same effect
on people,
and places,
and things.
HG – 2019
Great post 😊
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