At times
I may envy prisoners
captured in a just war
confined by a physical enemy.
There's no effort to bore
under the skin, to heart,
and play that sliver of hope
haunting a simpler cell of passions
clinging stubbornly to a silk rope
fraying in full light
of solitary confinement.
No, I'm none-too-bright
for remaining in bereavement.
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