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Bury The Subject
If this has been heard,
To serve a purpose...
Then
Repeating to beat a dead horse,
Just to witness your ego prance...
Will not regain the speed,
By which you would like to see it gallop.
To free it again with your indecision.
The breath of it has stopped!
The issue has been discussed.
Rigor mortis can not appear more final,
Than it does.
You may huff and puff,
As if yesterday will return to be corrected.
But it has been saddled.
Ridden and exhausted of purpose.
Now existing in oblivion.
Your need to play mortician...
Has been fulfilled and duly noted.
You have made a fantastic attempt!
Recollections have made it lifelike.
However, therefore and furthermore...
With an observation used as fact,
Decaying is no longer the issue.
Now bury the subject.
Or just disappear.
Those are the options.
Now make clear your choice!
A patience I remember,
Is slowly fading to reveal a craze invited!
You have voiced this over and over again.
It has been agreed.
Do you wish to hear 'DAMN-IT'
To solidify the moment?
It comes...
Faster than a speeding bullet.
More powerful than a locomotive!
'WILL YOU SHUT THE F-f-f-f...up! '
Children can spell 'recession' now.
We are living it.
There is no need to suggest its appearance.
This 'depression' you are leaving us with,
Could better be defined!
poem
by
Lawrence S. Pertillar
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