less than strangers…

every thing they said
has come to lies’ fulfillment
you do not recall
an old wagon ride
round and round all those summers
nor do you recall
whose hands and voice embraced you
some how ghosts stories
have replaced the real events
a black hologram of truth
i understand why
the truth is hard to live with
those crimes of passion
have altered life’s history
and the fools always believe


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