Manufactured Loneliness

The way you roll your eyes,
your death grip sighs,

no one is welcome here.

I think such a pity,
a girl made pretty,

so full of ugliness.

We came for a drink,
wouldn’t you think,

a warless POW would cheer.

Our happy convention,
absent of contention, 

wounded in manufactured loneliness.

 

Courtesy of Brandi L. Holder

 

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