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Rated: E · Poetry · Philosophy · #1455117
This piece asks the reflective life question: "Is this all there is?"
Telephone poles
all in a row
where do they go?

Are they ancient wooden columns of some great civilization
Leading us down the victorious pathway to the Emperor's city,
The majastic capitol of some vast mythological empire?

Perhaps they act as some giant fence
Keeping us on a path straight and direct
Put up by some giant beast, trying to fence us all like cattle or sheep.

Maybe they're just telephone poles
Nothing but telephone poles

I hope not



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