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Turnaround Time
by
Rusty Broadspear
Alan
unexpectedly found himself alone
With no energy,
Even to lick his wounds.
He knew there was no surgery or medication,
After all he was a man of the world,
Fully aware of the finality
And the irrationality.
He wasn't cursed.
Life dealt breaks, good and bad.
No consolation in thinking,
Of the many who suffered the same,
At the identical moment in time.
Alan was tearing himself apart.
A cynical smile
'Oh for the comfort of depression'
This was worse,
This was destruction,
Suction of a cyclone,
Stripping flesh from bone.
Alan looked at the bottle
But what good is temporary forgetfulness,
Fleeting insanity,
Transitory trips to yesterday...........
Return trips.
For the moment,
No hope for Alan.
He has to bounce the walls,
Feel the bruises,
Sense the knocks,
Experience the pain,
As it transfuses into silence.
Silence.....................
Stirring....................
Awakening...............
Alan, I know you won't hear me,
You will be deaf to the truth.
Wait for turnaround time
It always lurks a few corners ahead
And it's waiting for you.
Turnaround time, invisible, invincible,
It is a gift from God....................
For heartbreak.................
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