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May 20, 2024


By Ann Christine Tabaka


struggling to exist,
seeds once planted in faith.

Brilliance shines no more.
Corroded beliefs peel like old paint
of a leaded and fading past.

Amens cried out to a false god no
longer ring true. Time is now the
enemy, bulldozing hope into the ground.

Reality sings on a paper thin edge,
as lies dance to the silent tune.
Hope crosses its gnarled fingers.

Making sense of little, turning
day to night. Uprooted and
abandoned under a shiny veneer.

Article © Ann Christine Tabaka. All rights reserved.
Published on 2019-09-16
Image(s) are public domain.
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