Termites Jason Vanderlaan
These lonely memories
Of white faces smeared with red Are eating away at the home have yet to build.
I
The roof is already caving
And
in
the rain of destruction
Has begun These
to
pour down.
bitter regrets
Of white
dusted with black
lilies
Are gnawing away
at
the
home
have yet to build.
I
The
walls are already crumbling
And the winds
of
strife
Are beginning to blow violently. This unchangeable past
Of white hope washed away Is tearing away at the home I
have yet to build.
The foundation
And Is
the
mud
is
cracking
of desolation
seeping up through the floor.
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