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idyllic nightmare
Idyllic nightmare
I know they are good people who want us to leave
they don't know it is their time, what's up because
our time is fine, but they fail to grasp that they
are past the clock, it has belled twice
We have admired their garden with flowers
deep green lawn and made of plastic as are
the red roses, nothing is alive, but we pretend
like them, that they are not dead
We failed to ask the obvious question. Why are
we are here? Did they invite us? Or did we show up
in a world that has died, what we see is us who
exists in a world that is no longer real?
Copyright ©
Jan Hansen
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