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Metamorphosis of Modern Relation

Come sit with us", she said.
Now we sit here, speaking,
wistfully drinking;
Cracking the shell, cliché as it sounds,
yet the new cocoon did form.
 
“Keep up with us”, they said;
Watch my smile, running.
Exhaustion hidden away
as my mental faculties strain
to keep the wit and words
abreast, aloft, anew;
is this the great game we’ve made?
Is this the way such people play?
 
“You don’t fit this 'us’”, was said.
Have you heard the sound of shattered glass?
When I think back, I hear it still,
each crack a feeling.
Sadness, anger, apathy;
back to not knowing quite what to do.
 
“Please, don’t hurt us!” Someone cried.
At least, that’s the way I heard it in my mind
I see the sense in the lone gunmen,
the isolationists
the idle minds
When the excitement of new love and hope
Expands, betrays, and fades in time.

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