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Thomas Lyons

21st Century Job

There you are. Haunting my mirror, watching me
Making small talk with myself. So what do you think of the weather today?
Oh it’s never been better, I say as I strain to imitate your female voice.
Which doesn’t really work out because I’m still not in touch with my feminine side enough.
But even if I was, I still couldn’t counterfeit the love we shared.
And even if I was, I couldn’t recreate a beauty no longer there.
But I still try to
Because I can’t forget you.
And the hail rains down outside tonight like so many stones
Thrown at me by god. But why would he want to stone me, dammit?
Am I Job's great great great great great great great great grandson?
Or something?
Maybe, he answers silently through your gravestone
Which I will have a one-sided chat with today
Despite the weather.
Maybe, god tells me. But maybe is an answer I don’t want to hear
As I stand near this rock marking a victim of chance.
Because the fear of tragedy has steered me into a sad apathy
I never knew was in me before you died.
But you are not gone.

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