YM


It is certain how we got here
but here we do not belong.
Our pieces do not match
these puzzled lines we have drawn.
We have manipulated; we have fought
and our efforts are shown
by the twisted, tattered edges
of something greater than we know.
We are not mechanics, our brains-
these hands of ours cannot conceive
how to rebuild a life we have yet to lead.
No footsteps trace a past certain and narrow
toward a goal to be achieved
because there is no longer an us
in you and me

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