Little Ships
tied up at the edges and resting on rocks some are disabled (metaphor we barely understand or see) he's an old man now more feeble each day wants to turn back hands on a clock he cannot quite reach remembering his might that maybe never was he wants to reinvent his past and be remembered as the hero of his confused delusion (delusion returns easily) mass murderers so often refuse to accept terrible responsibilities but judgement comes even dictators die (little ships) like everyone else lie broken on rocks of our misdeeds meet judgement (oh my - what have we done) approaching his rocky end he still can't understand
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