poetry by j matthew waters

in the aftermath

who is to say
that this is it
the end has finally
and there you stand
a witness to it all

who is to say
is nothing like it
used to be
golden rays
replaced to no end

who is to say
all the records
accumulated inside
will never be restored
or rebroadcasted
into the void

september two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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