Friday, April 12, 2013

Of Sorts


I was coming to the end of all of this,
the kind of dead end that appears at the first foot of a corn field,
with headlights in tow,

short of breath,
out of excuses,

cornered,
not out of choice,
but out of inevitability,

very early on,
I decided to give up,

I was an architect of failure,
tragedy,
disappointment even,

sure,
this was a self fulfilling prophecy,

save for the fact that none of this,
not even in the slightest,
was prophetic

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