HAD BURNED BRIGHT

Never having gotten,

We can not give.
What are we
but phantoms?

It's so hard
for those of us
who lived like
TIGERS,
to now
live like men.

It's a lonely fate.

Most of us gone,
and a new set off rules
for those of us left.

It's both better
and worse.

By sextonpoet

© 2000 sextonpoet (All rights reserved)

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