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Apathy, My Cross

with her mop bucket
sleeps on a floor
of dirt
a cardboard fridge box
dented cans

a candle
from the church

she mops
keeping demons at bay
mumbles a prayer
she can't understand

and I can't understand any of this

is she strong
surviving so long
or weak
for letting it all come down to

just this

she is an old lady
so I side with the angels
assuming Those Storied Ones
stay ever close
watching over

not me
I am just watching

why don't they do a better job

Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Editing stage: 


thanks...lots. I write something, hit the submit button...always a little apprehensive if anyone will be able to make sense of it...not that I'm complex or I am happy that you found something in it


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