Café culture
By Parson Thru
- 960 reads
Did all this really happen?
Did I walk with open eyes into this hall of horrors?
Did I willingly throw so much away?
Perhaps it was the charge of selfishness, loitering in the wings, practicing its lines.
Perhaps a lapse of memory, decades of forgetting and redrawing situations, events and people.
Perhaps it was compassion or affection, after all.
Or just the money – a refusal to see what they’d accrued handed by an edict of the Cabinet of Millionaires to generous benefactors.
Perhaps it was political, then. Or, less high-minded, purely selfish.
Yes. Perhaps just that.
Which of these will be the last to die?
Which will form the epitaph?
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Comments
Is it helping to write it
Is it helping to write it down?
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Those are awful things to say
Those are awful things to say : (. sending you a hug xx
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I remember being told "you
I remember being told "you think you are so clever!"
replying "at least I think"
swiftly folllowed by
"OW!"
You will go back to Spain, it is a beautiful comfy boot you have taken off, to put on a badly made shoe you grew out of years ago, just while you walk a path you must walk while your company is needed
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