Wednesday, March 2, 2011


Murphy had it right
When he forecast this night,
Enormous pillars built to hold
The forces gravity beholds
And on this eve
It all crumbled,
Crushing many in the process

Who am I to think I could have changed?
An outcome not defined by arrows
Hieroglyphs were the only designations
Prepared for us, scribbled illegibly across
The dirty walls we leaned against,

To some they brush off the chalk
Peer around then head into the next day
In the same manner they did today,

For me, I can’t
I feel responsible,
Even though logic would dictate
All the many ways I played no part

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