There are things that are stolen from
and the naive,
that can never be gotten back.
Some seeds die, never to grow again.
This grieves me deep today.
I am watching closely as people who believe they “know” show how little they have known.
My first response is outrage for the woman you slaughter with such ease. Then seeps in a slow sense of profound pity.
you cast your lots;
God help me,
you even moralize,
While she hangs her naked soul on that man made cross she was never meant to bear.
So old, this story is.
So old, I feel.