When humanity is forced
to consider
itself
What is the point?
is it life itself
or existentialism?
If we can get rid of thew past we can move on.
The parchment is scorched a written score
as the rain soothes
It washes away
the cerebral
and the inconsequential
and even less
the rain doesn't listen
he just goes
on ahead
as if he heals
the scab still festers underneath
and the rain is soft tonight
and understanding.
The rain soothes and the rain knows
But the rain doesn't know
if her audience
is ready
for that if we can we can get rid of the past pain
so that we can move on
If she is the locus
the shift of control
to myself.
edited by Maree Brogden
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