Your candles
flickering low,
families gathering
whispering
in back rooms,
tuning out, you are like
an old analogue radio.
Words drowned in the
howling gale,
jigsaw pieces
no longer fitting,
memories mix with reality
frustrations turn together,
at the interface
love and anger collide,
showering rainfalls
of tears,
for what you once was.
Bone and dust
Bone and dust
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