This Week's Poem: December 2025, Week 2
And speaking of getting back on the horse, I'm returning to posting work samples from different projects. This is one of last week's poems - an experimental form with an iambic pentameter base. We Remain We are the lost The untransitioned The ones they left behind We are those who lived When all else died Or were transformed Removed from human Made monsters of the mind We are those who made it through We wish to turn back time To turn back time To what things once were An imperfected norm Not safe but still a sanctuary Compared to where we now have gone In this plague world Where the dead walk Still alive and not at rest We strive to send them back to sleep And rebuild what they have left.