Woe To You

Woe To You

Woe to you who sift and sieve

through all the clutter of my past

Finding scraps of meaning that

you alone will grasp

In all, a worthless lot, be sure

as measured by a time of man

seeks you, for you:   you alone

as you sift and scan

Woe to you who sift and sort

reminiscing this, all for naught

Future hopes that never match

broken mem’ry caught

Be merry! In this sad chore

a glimpse of many truth’s here tell

May yet escape you of past path’s

your fated, prospect;          hell.

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