London Poem: Day 208

13 March

What we make of the world
Lifts up, raised with extended arms,
And when brought down,
We find nothing left.
Around is a life unseen
In grand dreams,
But the careful plots
Have been spliced
To build a life, unpredictable.
Eaten away, the dream pops,
Here, there; across the spectrum,
Bending this way and that,
With the face unchanged.
The dream blinds even
The most guarded eyes –
But, here you are nonetheless,
Loving the uncertain, and
Uncharted life.

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In flux

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