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The Furlough Is Done
I tarried amongst
the mediocre and superficial
hoping to thaw in the farce,
but there was no glory nor grace
in sedating with injectable faith
Now I paced into the carnage
with svelte gentle legs
because no matter how the splinters break
this fervor to burn cannot be staid
The furlough is done
and all is purged in the abeyance,
empty handed, I left everything behind
as I approach what's in front of me
with an undaunted loaded gun
poem
by
Norman Santos
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