Estranged

Poem

Ben Human

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Photo by Jane Sorensen on Unsplash

Having spent my life
estranged from myself,
I’ve long arrived
in an easy place,
in comfort and at peace
and estranged from the world.
I could choose — right or left,
something novel, someplace law
— or dying in
a star-ditched ring
with some pretty,
lissom thing,
or vie for acceptance
in officialdom.
I chose both,
mad as children,
and no longer hear
you outside there
or myself over here.
The portal closed,
the air is cold
outside…

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