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Momentary Monument
Sometimes
we scribble just to
fill the sheet,
to feel our arm.
Sometimes we
fill our cups with air.
Sometimes
children are born accessories;
earrings adorned
for the shine.
Meaning
for emptier lives.
Sometimes
we shape the haphazard
like a sand castle
at the shore.
A momentary monument built
to stand atop.
Some time
we will drop.
