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Friday, December 4, 2015

What's in a shape

We live in a square world
Wishing it was rounds
All the lines drawn around us
Hoping ‘twill never be found

The sharp edge of the justice system
Overlapping with the underworld
The ever changing paths of society
The veritable labyrinth of all.

The strong arcs of family support
The dotted lines of love
The uneven edge of burnt bridges
the self-arc of things selfish

the crossroads on the way forward
surrounded by self-imposed horizons
a circle of kin within our comfort state
adjoining a sphere of things we hate

Forget for once these worldly lines
For they keep good within and without
For all you need cannot be defined
By lines or shapes, inside or out
At the end of it all, we all are
A rectangle , six feet underneath

Or 3 feet of logs overground.

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