words, words, always

reading poetry and crying, crying
i know who i am
i know who i am
i know who i am

but what it means has yet to come
and where you are means nothing now

doors are opening and spring is only
hidden beneath the eternal snowfall

i am emoting and retracing my steps
made with light shoes and heavy heart

words are all that is left at this point of
no return, no leaving, no indecisive staying

this building was built with a strong
foundation, and founding a nation was
only the first step in a line of many
mistakes, breaks, and undertakers.

bury me in a small jar
bury me in the back yard
or don't bury me at all
just leave me somewhere
for strangers to find
and perhaps write a poem about

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