Sometimes,
The familiar Isn't just - Familiar. It hurts, Deep inside. It charges at the heart, Puts it out of place. How do we reckon the burns of the past? When time is sifting them deeper into a hole, Into war, Into rockets flying in the air, Into pain and hurt, Into loss and greed, Into - The familiar Again, And again. When I was a little girl, It was no different, Except - The familiar had More hope. It had more hope than no hope, It had a tint of possibility. It had leaders, it had talks. And now, As I am older A woman - Or so I am told - Time is moving forward, Greed has deep pockets Politicians have cruel hearts Wag The Dog isn't just a movie. Now the familiar Is horribly, horridly - Too Familiar. How do we hold on to hope In a hopeless land? Asking for a friend. Asking for a country. Asking for a nation. Asking for a people. There are infinite stories in the story of two. There are infinite losses in the story of two. There are infinite wrongs in the question of 'who's right?' There are infinite ways outside of the conflict zone. Maybe we cannot find them because they are too - Unfamiliar. ***
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AuthorIn April 2020, while experiencing her first ever global pandemic, Tamar Pelzig pledged to write something every day, even if it's only a word, so she welcomed to the world a daily blog to keep her creative writing wheels rolling. Categories
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Header Art: Daniel Landerman |