Time and space allows for rekindling

When something dies...

Sometimes the end of one dream

Involves an internal dying

A fading into distance...

And yet, sometimes people won't let go of something that is dead.

They clutch it like Halloween candy,

Thinking that if they just hold tightly enough

And pretend

And make believe that nothing happened,

And fill in lies about the past,

That maybe, just maybe

That damn dream will get up and walk...

Like the resurrection.

But then time passes.

Thier tightly clutched hands press so tightly 

That they obliterate whats left.

What's dead stays dead.

And lies, no matter how comforting they may be

Fail to change the past.

Fail to change the present.

Fail, in fact, to kill the very future that may have been instead.

Sometimes hate does not heal.

Sometimes the contempt passed around like party favors simply poisons what good will remains.

It simply is a doubling down

That multiplies the disconnect.

And people rush to drive each other away

And they rejoice in their coldness and disdain,

Self appointed heroes and martyrs.

As if by destroying each other, they destroy their divisions.

Building thier anger with their lies.

And so begins another day.

Welcome to America. So long as the picture is pretty, the substance can vary.