A massive swirling gyre of birds ascends
the ominously darkened winter sky
as though perhaps today's the day it ends
but we must suffer more before we die
and so I trudge away forgetting why
I even care about the startled birds
unless I move there won't be time to try
today's attempt to find the proper words
that help define my legacy (as such)
instead of just a way to pass the time
while waiting for that final judgment day
and yes I do admit I'm out of touch
denying my detachment as a crime
but sadly I don't get the final say.
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