Rather Planetary
The sand men don't sleep at night.
They've ransomed you're dreams.
Put them up on a wall that all can see except you,
You they use as a mirror for everyone else.
Though this isn't about your magnanimity.
This is about the angels that support your wake.
This is about an unknown clearance:
The emotional skyline.
A gesture towards you from someone's father
("go, get 'em!" he seems to say)
As the Earth continues to rotate.
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