In the deepest recesses of my tattered soul
I find no comfort in idols
utterances of inane flattery
shingled roofs of gold
I find no comfort in electronic signals
profanity rules the show
and I wander aimless
In the shallow contemplation of finery
rags and bones and words
hollow a pattern of heart beats
repressed and alone
I find no comfort in comfort
and that is the sadness
my own
















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