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November 1986

 

late at night

he sits

in his room

upstairs

alone

and weeping

 

memories of

better days

brighter hopes

too clear a mirror

of the truth

 

what was once

is gone

a newer page

is being writ

down a saint

up a demon

unfeeling brother

now holds sway

 

and life goes on

and on

and on

 


Late at Night
A poem by Peter Rhebergen

Copyright 2020

Each New Day A Miracle
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