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Untitled
Contributed by
Brasin
on
Sunday, 18th December 2005 @ 01:06:08 AM in AEST
Topic:
oops
|
Familiarize yourself with the song. It’s going to be a long drive.
We headed down the road without talking; our breeched pants stained with the yellow light that collected on them that day;
We were heroes then.
We were admired for the things that we had accomplished, and the places we had touched were coated in gold-plated monuments. Our silhouettes stood tall, with swords in our hands. We used to be fighters.
But now the missionary revolution had come to an end, because we ran out of wood for our buildings.
All the Indians will be Indian, I guess….
….and they’ll never stop cutting off their hair when their mothers die. Hopefully they’ll clutch their gold crosses as their hold their knives.
But that wasn’t what we were after in the first place.
I watched him, as he packed, placing his pants, socks, and shirts in his plastic suitcase, tied with a ribbon. He didn’t want to lose it on the plane.
It was all he had left, ever since he lost his hope.
“I’ll leave you in the car, with the windows rolled down.” He told me, as he took the keys and walked away.
I was the last one left.
Copyright ©
Brasin
... [
2005-12-18 01:06:08] (Date/Time posted on
site)
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