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October is a tragedy Written by the ghosts of summertime, Discharging promises and platitudes Like an old man seated on a rocking chair; Reciting them time and again, Building false hope Like a child Building a house with playing cards. Ferocious wind, a gentle thump, They crumble; Returning to a predetermined purpose, Bound by a preexisting oath. Copyright © 1994-2018 by Benjamin Toney. All rights reserved. Published 2016 in "Up In Smoke" via

Copyright © | Year Posted 2018

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