Slowly with each straw they inched close to
Building a haven, they had long envisioned
The days of austerity had finally paid off
And the marveled at their creative effort
The walls of trust were strengthened
With mortar of love and sweet labor
The passion was there all these years
And soon filled the nest with little chirpers
The wind it came from the north
But it was in reality south
And usurped the lives, relationships
Scattered, tattered and the bough it broke
Upon which perched a cracked construct
The hole which pierced through
Was young and vibrant and haunting
In a way that he always imagined
And the nest it was empty, dead
A mausoleum of what was once
A world-defying courageous spunk

<a href=””>Construct</a&gt;


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