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Those around us grow, as we few, remain separated |
Separated by Keaton Foster Separated There By itself Oneself In a field Of many Down low In the shadows In the shade So cold Beneath All around Life grows Rises above But it is not alive And it is not dead It is in between In a world of beauty And a life of ugly It has existed Such persistence What is it How could it be Omnipresent Futile this being Fighting a world Blind to that which It dares not see No one Nothing Offers aid Caring A fool’s charade Fighting battles Waging wars In a wilderness Of such absolutes Winning, impossible Surviving, the same It could scream But silent it must be Nothing cares most When there are no rules To define that which is Could ever be something Of what do we speak These words Such riddles Inhospitable Towards understanding And all meaning A game thus played An answer swayed The truth delayed Reality is the face Of the stranger Standing out of reach Asking for change Seeking the same When there is Nor will there be There By itself It stands An omen And an homage All within itself Everything And everywhere else Others do grow Standing true Facing what must be As they turn a blind eye To that of which I speak All around The real Nothing And no one else All that there is Or ever could be Is as close And as far away As that which Neither lives Nor dies Isolation Is as close As it need be Separated… Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2008-2022 |