
The Betrothed and the Eiffel Tower by Marc Chagall in 1913
Because we’ve neglected to get better,
we’re far worse than our predecessors.
Time is a tissue, unwound with glee.
wadded in waste
only to discover too late
the rare commodity.
.
All the uncured disease,
the garden plots of weeds,
Time spent winding strands of hair,
hurling different shaped balls,
painting fingernails,
instead of finding more reusable air.
We fight for a bigger cut,
unhappy with our share.
We press delete
unwilling to discover
what makes our souls complete.
Together we could be a blessing,
but we treat love like a curse;
our vows as humans tested,
for better or worse.
© 2021 | K.Hartless
An old poem reworked for better and hopefully not worse.





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