What We Lose

No matter what they tell you,
we have lost nothing. Every evening,
they say: we are deprived of light,
even though the stars kneel before them.
In the morning, they raise their heads
with anguish for the night. Even as
the roses are outside blazing in sun,
they weep. Is it the nature of man
to slice the throats out of birds
and expect them to sing?

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