Generasure

All my father’s
Friends are dead
No one left to
Lift our head
Buried here
Or on the hill
My father’s friends are dead

Daddy’s sister
Died last year
I see Daddy
In the mirror
I taste wine that
Tastes like fear
Daddy’s sister’s dead

Cars on farms and
Gloves by trees
Rusted tractors
Broken dreams
Broken windshields
Blind the dead
Nothing holds my soul

I am lonesome
Daddy’s dead
Nothing holds my soul

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