A Legacy Too Late | Tara Lynn Hawk
The good disappear
And no one speaks of it
A type of sanctioned poison covers it
Waiting to be released but for the key of a syllable
Hearts burn quickly and minds stay numb
They shuffle back and forth each day
With buried acknowledgement
There is no comfortable silence
It screams and moans with sweat and abuse
Then leaves them to die in loneliness
With no solemn bagpipe accompaniment
Elusive relaxation evades the tourniquet
The new normal
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