the nouns of my life no longer make sense

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This is a revised version of a poem also! The original can be found here.

 

the nouns of my life no longer make sense

 

I trip and stumble

unable to find my way

through the piles of ruble

that were once beautifully ornate buildings

made out of rustic brick

and beautifully carved granite

 

the blue of the sky has gone

replaced by a colorless block of gray

a roof that impedes the light of the sun

if such a thing even exists anymore

I do not know

 

dust begins to swirl

trapping not only me but my memories

any remnants of a life before have disappeared

I continue my trek over the endless piles of debris

unsure of what to look for

but hoping to find something familiar

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