but what is it
it’s old, it’s new
it’s heavy blue
ink smeared on a screen
i was overseas,
when you were seventeen
& we don’t know war
we don’t know poverty
just food stamps and rice
& powdered milk
and borrowed newspaper
we don’t know pain,
just suicide, and settlements
and three heart attacks
In the same year
as the car wreck
we don’t know trauma
we just know normal
like nurses and nicus
we don’t think, we just act
And you always act okay
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