It doesn't echo like the comfort of snow
It's miserable.
Darkness comes an hour earlier,
Stocks plummet,
Dead presidents roll in their graves.
Many took bathroom breaks from parties
And returned to funerals.
We shelve our books
And unlock the weapons from our armories.
Rewriting reality
For what we see
What we can't believe
Is happening.
Lying will only buy you more time
It's what we're best at
After all.
Blindfolding one another
Leading
Then
Walking straight off a cliff.
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