Puzzled by your measured liftime,
Much confusion you equate,
Knowing, as you grasp a lifeline,
Schedules show a drowning date.
Set upon by weeds and thickets,
Shuttered windows hide the veiw.
Then to find out-dated tickets,
Missed events concerning you.
Sit and mull this worn location,
Weakened walls that lean askew.
Houses' weary avocation,
Fighting Dry Rot seeping through.
Lived a life with doubts it happened,
Births and deaths and in-betweens.
Witness to a chaos bastion
Passers-by would deem serene.
Ghosts, convinced they still are living
Fool themselves with false vignettes.
Soon the messengers will give them
Peaceful crossing to their death.
Copyright © Gene Bourne | Year Posted 2014
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