Unjust, the mind squeals
Life isn’t waiting at its door
Bidding it usual favors
Comfort and warmth
Inside and outside
The road’s turned rough
Spouting rocks and thorns
It was so close, the haven
It was carefully chosen
From the cards of desire
The mirror’s forgotten
The smoothness of the past
The eyes can’t fathom
Why the texture’s changed
Life used to be so just
Sworn to silence, it won’t speak
We realize it’s the wrong path
Thankfully we are being spoiled
Even as we call life unjust
Unjust. A poem
Life isn't...
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