Poem V

by Logan Anthony

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In times when walls were bare,

I dared to think of affectations there.

Paintings by the masters

In reds, and blues, and blackers. 

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But then one summer’s day,

When I was gone and very far away,

He thought to put up pictures,

Histories like fancy liqueurs,

Glinting high like noble vicars

In their glimmer and their pomp.

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But all I see are memories

Reminding me of empty scenes.

All I can see are times of glee

For everybody else,

But me.