It isn't, we were born, a day ago, a century...an eon. We been around, a long long time, burning midnight oil...greasing links in chains, have held us down. Yet, we never lost our smile, nor lines...to what we meant to tell.
Written by Bruce James Clyde 2016, at Deming, New Mexico
Art: Promethius, by Nicolas Sebastien Adam 1762, Louvre
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