Pastiche People

I have seen all this before, without you.

Echo children, they fit us together.

Did you think this was the very first time here?

Easily broken men, this might never end.

 

Patchwork people, shadows in the moonlight

Broken records repeat for new partners

Old jokes used before slid them in again

The smoke from between my lips shows the lie.

 

Pastiche people, reworking memories

To fit new bodies in worn archetypes

What happens now has happened all before.

 

And each time I complete a loop around,

The world becomes less real. I am a ghost

Reliving each year, with patchwork people

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