Let the Dead Bury Their Dead
It’d be different if I had no regrets
But I’m too old for that
It’d be different if I had never hedged a bet
But I know that too
It’d be different if I could really say I made a difference
But I can’t really say
It’d be different if I had been the one not to conform
But the truth gets in the way
We celebrate the heroes
We cheer even harder when the villains die
But after the accolades, and verbal grenades
We go back to work
We drink the wine
Eat the bread
There’s only so much time for cheering the fallen
Or Mocking the dead
Copyright © John Cabascango | Year Posted 2023
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