Copy is the Original

Nowhere's now you, a pile of salty ashes,
Burning a page that somebody has torn.
Rough black timber butterflies
Bespeckle the baby-blue skies.
Is this your death or are you reborn?

For whom do the bells toll?
Does it matter, at all?
Copy is the original.

You will fall
And, again, fall
It takes time to be whole.
Copy is the original.

See you in the future, if there is one,
I will be born and you will survive.
You'll always be displaced,
I'll always be misplaced.
You will remind me that I'm still alive.

What's behind my wall?
Do I want it, at all?
Copy is the original.

I will fall
And again, fall
It takes time to be whole.
Copy is the original.

- October 14th and 15th, 2016

FW V1.07

A copy of the original about the original no longer being, err, a thing.

The whole concept, in a nutshell, from the mind of an absolute nutjob. There are no metaphors in this poem.

One line was borrowed from the beginning of Apollo 440's music video for the song "Stop the Rock". I liked it a lot. And the fact that the dog's name was Dog made it suitable to reuse here.

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