It’s existed forever: hovering,
Seeping with sepia memories,
Night-creeping, wreaking havoc,
Filling every corner and crevice.
Reeking of thirty-year old booze,
Boo-boos, berating and
I would wonder what
the point of it all was.
Seeing happiness seemed
doomed, for everything was
temporary, and still is. Striving
to be better—than what?
For what? Then what?
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