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Poetry & Art

Sun…set

The sun is setting.

The ocean is covered in plastic.

The ice is melting.

Our closest ancestors are chimps.

Experts say to invest in a 401k, but it will never be all the money ever made. Standing on a balcony in a hurricane. Why do we slaughter animals so inhumanely?

Burying ancestors. Do the books tell all the stories of slaves? Do they tell the stories of the Japanese internment camps or the Jewish persecution?

Standing on the edge of the littered streets, is that a rat covered in human grime?

The sun still sets.

Maybe when a woman swallows a pill, she is wrong but not wrong when she makes ten cents to a man’s dollar. Or wrong when it is expected she bare the weight of it all and no insurance covers it.

The sun still sets.

Speak. Speak into bitter winds. Summer awaits. Mother Nature wishes phones would stay locked and the hands would feel. Feel the soil in between toes. Are lives worth sacrifices?

The sky was once clear and blue. Seems like when it once exploded, the gray never left.

The sun still sets.

Inevitably, it will fade.

Was it all real or all an illusion?

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by Kristina Hopper

Self published author;
Dream Seeker;
Art Curator;
Poet;


Website

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