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[ After The Scream (1893) by Edvard Munch ] You walk away from us With your backs turned. Fixed in your ways with The comforts of your space Secure for your short future. You only talk to those who Live in your part of Our common world. Our part is forlorn: We are left with spaces Shrinking faster than Than we can manage. Yet you continue on your path Away from our concerns Ignoring the burning sky And our despairing screams. |