where was my fiddle when Rome... burned
hidden from me I suppose..
unkind gods they are were who
took my territories from me...
suspicion moved quickly from one
mouth to the other, from one
soul to another, from one country
to another as if none of them remembered
who had brought them there.
who had arranged passage with bribes of coin,
betrayed as if Caesar was present...
Brutus had not died as I was lead to believe,
we were once all there were
we did it all... the decisions... the wars
the times in between when life was good,
now we are no more and I must flee
and burn all my memories behind me.
February 5, 2025
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