Saturday, July 27, 2024

cynical wedding poem

in the world of
supposed-to-haves

and could-have-beens

we stand in repose
to the point of dozing

waiting to say our lines

do we mean it this time?

do we feel the weight
of the words?

do we understand 
what we stand here saying?

and does it all matter
anyway

(nay)





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