Poem Hunter
Poems
Goodbye
(February/'47 / Connecticut, USA)

Goodbye

Poem By Karen May Mamaril

They're people tired of hoping,
And told to cope.
They're people tired of moping,
And duped like dopes.
They're people tired of holding,
Onto a rope...
And,
Slipping from their grip.

They're people tired of hoping,
And told to cope.
They're people tired of moping,
And duped like dopes.
They're people tired of holding,
Onto a rope...
And,
Slipping from their grip.

Is it just the politics,
Of it.
Where are all the benefits,
Gone missing.
Is it just the foolishness,
That exists.
With a change that remains the same.

They're people tired of hoping,
And told to cope.
They're people tired of moping,
And duped like dopes.
They're people tired of holding,
Onto a rope...
And,
Slipping from their grip.

Is it just the politics,
Of it.
Where are all the benefits,
Gone missing.
Is it just the foolishness,
That exists.
With a change that remains the same.

Mental conflicts,
The people are feeding.
On mental conflicts,
People feed.
These mental conflicts,
The people are feeding...
With an obviousness increased.

Is it just the politics,
Of it.
Where are all the benefits,
Gone missing.
Is it just the foolishness,
That exists.
With a change that remains the same.

Mental conflicts,
The people are feeding.
On mental conflicts,
People feed.
These mental conflicts,
The people are feeding...
With an obviousness increased.

They're people tired of hoping,
And told to cope.
They're people tired of moping,
And duped like dopes.
They're people tired of holding,
Onto a rope...
And,
Slipping from their grip.

Mental conflicts,
The people are feeding.
On mental conflicts,
People feed.
These mental conflicts,
The people are feeding...
With an obviousness increased.

Is it intentional?
These conflicts.
Is it an intentional,
Increase.
Is it intentional?
These conflicts.
Is it an intentional,
Increase.

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