Bought and Sold

It seems the seams have torn and ripped

On the growths and dreams with buds freshly nipped.

They’ve slipped and dipped

Into bitter empty trips

And left us none the wiser.

They’ve been manufactured: cold and loud.

From pieces fractured: weak, yet proud.

Not of new, but of old.

The things bought and sold

Exchanged for our desire

And one day

one day I’ll be old and gray

fleeing birth; chasing decay.

So I can’t go on wanting.

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