We've built the beautiful places
through disaster and heartbreak
and luck and romance.
From the roots up, we've rocked the rocks,
and moved the Earth.
We've felt it all;
through the pain and hate and the joy and passion.
From the inside out,
we've broken hearts
and drowned our own in love.
We've written it all down,
through the war and chaos,
liberation and freedom.
Pen to ink,
ink to paper,
we've painted words
and cried poems.
We've done it all,
through time and space,
lives and deaths.
We've built and felt and told all the stories,
and we will till the end;
Till our souls are pulled apart,
Till there are no more speaking voices,
And till there's no one left to listen.
Posted in response to the challenge Spring: Writing Contest.
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