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  • Writer's pictureMartin Wardley

A permanency (18th Nov 2020)

It was a permanency

In a life lined deep with transience and need

A distinct lack of urgency

In the midst of all this conflicted, scripted speed

A rock among the weeds

To grasp when time or tide decide to twist

A consistent to believe

While insistent that this fiction would persist

And now that it is lost

We wallow in this brittle artificial

And now that it is gone

Remaining screams out fickle superficial

It was a permanency

And now it is no more

And thus, with trust and certainty

It is ours to stand much taller

Than we ever stood before

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