Poem

No Option But One

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Whatever could have been or still might be comes without warning in our sleep. The days of pain that never happened happen. ………………………………..Dreams of bounty or misjudgment differ only in degree and outcome from nausea to guilt. …………………………………….Excess breeds regret. …………………………Soldiers rise legless or armless or both from ranks of identical graves, accusing, accusing, accusing. We struggle not to listen. Titles like Mr. President, Your Royal Highness, You Holiness, Your Honor, Your Grace or anyone who holds the office of citizen mean nothing. The bitter truth of nightmares comes without our wiling it. Waking wiser or spared, our last defense is gratitude.