06 Apr 2016 – Morning

The morning after
silently unfolds each dawn –
night not withstanding.

Grief grows in darkness.
Sunrise takes us by surprise,
our handcuffs – paper.

Chaotic voices
bellow out fictitious tales –
our choice to purchase.

The tears we’ve clung to
blind our eyes to daybreaks’ gifts
flung before our feet.

~

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