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No resolutions for this kid

by Shannon McEwen

From the silence ticks the clock
Amidst the self help talk
Twelve resounding bongs

Mingled with sentimental songs
And champagne kisses
That just misses

The mark of rebirth
An odd combination
Of sadness and mirth

And the first ragged breath
Signals something new
Except for us weary few

That sees the over bright night
The very same as the one before
A new channel but same old fight

And the page turns to number one
And three hundred and sixty four
More days to become undone

03/31/2013

Posted on 03/31/2013
Copyright © 2026 Shannon McEwen

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