Human Beings

The Ice rink statues move in the freezing fog,
a day to remember, a wonderful time.

Old man walks his dog along the ancient towpath
knowing that time has run out.

His life awaits the doom
of memories burned out
in a hostile world.

Idiots write poetry
and spew out inverted self -centered rhyme,
trying to out do all competitors.

Meaning is trivialized.
Life is a cruel agony now,
the old man watches the figures
as they skate majestically
around his life,

knowing that
being human
is better than
humans being.

(by Chris Pitts)

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