Dust settles about a mist shrouded room as the clock strikes, chiming the glorious tunes of two in the afternoon. Everyone's in motion, gathering their belongings and rushing off for their respective appointments. Scrapes of rubber soles upon concrete floor reminiscent of a pack of birds taking flight.
Is it jubilation; is it fear or is it numbness that fills all our hearts? Causing us to be aloof and indifferent to how others feel.
Now, after all that's said and done,
are we really free? Can we truly say that it's all in the past?
It was a good run,
but what do we leave behind if not ash and dust?
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