The End of an Era

Standard

this isn’t what I thought
sought
after days
on the beach,
shining like a ruby red throne
would be like.
and not,
like my own two eyes see
same sided figures
twirling
counter
clockwise.

This room sits
on an empty car lot
(well, I think so)
bare
walls stripped of dignity
and it reminds me
of myself
so cut off
so abruptly
like a severed head
I did not even have time
to scream;
and yet,
somehow
the date they gave me
was never really
as acurate
as
people said it seemed.

Copyright 2014 Golden Star Poetry

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