we are not who we once were

if ever there was a sadness
an insatiable ache
for the wholeness and abandonment
without reservation
it is mine

if ever there was an appropriate time
to cut the ties and burn the bridge
or run for the some glad morning
it is now

if ever there was a castle
pierced by the oral tradition of betrayal
surrounded by the kisses of enemies
disguised as friends
it is here

the locks on the doors have been changed
the pictures on the wall, rearranged

[we are not who we once were]

if ever there were a reason
to greet the mourning with a smile
and stand to face the wind
with a concrete hope
it is you

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