Perhaps We're Malcontents
The days grew jumbled. The standard activities,Standard hours, shifted, not a lot, but evidently
Enough. We were always off-stride and out
Of sorts. Appointments were missed. Our
Friends were offended, and everything we had
Looked forward to eat was cold when we dragged
Our chairs to the table. We didn't sleep well,
But here's what is strange: with the turmoil
Ended and calm reestablished, our spirits weren't
Lifted. They sank even further, as what we had
Known left us bored.
Poetry by Lawrence Beck
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Written on 2021-05-02 at 01:23
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