The Ironic Storm
The echoing halls that were once riddled with people,
People of races, gender and prospects meet
And share a brief meaningless second, a
limbo of society.
There stories repelling like a singular
pole of a magnet.
Creating a canyon of separation:
A canyon that is unbridgeable.
Today there is no repulsion; there is no
opportunity for that,
The society that once rejected each other.
Each share fear of a lady’s name..
There is only one story today.
What will Sandy do next?
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