there is no sadness like my own
it passes from my heart
through my fingers, words
cascade, a waterfall
tears without moisture
dessicated, only
the salt remains
no voice but my own
i'm tired of its accent
it bounces and ricochets
mocks me, maudlin
it curses tourette
what i could've said
idle speculations
no vowels left
in my repertoire
the past reveals the present
the present, the past
an oracle of memory
split decisions
misinterpretations
there were prophesies
that toppled empires
a kingdom lost,
cassandra knew, but
knowing means nothing
in a world reeling
tonight, tomorrow
there is no sadness like my own
there is no sadness like my own
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