Day 51 of 100 Poems/100 Days

Dust

With these hands of mine,
I built her an empire;
towers and fields,
flowers and a bit of peace.

But she raised violence,
with canons that roar,
and fought until no end.

So I crushed that empire with a sneeze,
blew the pieces underneath her door,
in between her tiny toes.

I have lost the girl but saved myself,
and I float alone as the ship sinks.

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