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Monday, October 06, 2008


I wonder why I wake when other people die.
The sun begins to dim, reflecting on their fate;
the calls of birds seem less like ditties for a mate
and more like delicately grieving, solemn sighs.
My footsteps tread with guilt toward the beastly right.
My eyes draw to the sun and greet its sullen face -
I wonder why I still may see its tepid grace
as Death deprives the living of their human sight.

The world seems cruel on such a bitter morning’s start,
when all the world seems stripped of love and crudely stark.

And what a pain to feel for such that isn’t mine –
as here I am, ungracious, petty, as a toy.
And whilst I sympathise, I do not help – but sigh! –
a most unseemly vice, a most beseeming ploy.


  1. I also wonder why I wake when other people die. Sad, is it not?


  2. I suppose one of the constants of life--and death--is unfairness.


A word is dead
When it is said,
Some say.

I say it just
Begins to live
That day.

- Emily Dickinson

Thanks, Wordle!