End: a poem

Nothing ever changes

Yet why does it always change?  

Wasn’t there a protest about the lack of change

You said it beautifully

Make a song

Don’t make prose

Nobody will listen to the change

Nothing changes ever

Although I kept being different


Mesmerising work

Just different forms of the same things

Displaced history repeats like

Nostalgia for the nineties

Earthquake, tsunami

Always focus on the end

Don’t worry about the beginning

How does it end?

It’s quite philosophical, isn’t it?

Do you want a good end?

It’s finished now but it never stops ending

It was a signal from within

Travelling through a body

Travelling through bodies

Beginning at the end

Don’t begin

Be the last

But not the last to admit your foible

To send a pretty fast missile

To end what isn’t you

Pretty quick to send wars far off

To hopefully keep war far away

What if it did end?

This far off conflict that inevitably 

Comes home to its masters

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