A poem by Maxine Rose Munro
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How can you stand there and burn me
with your cold eyes. Yes, I know I did
it, can we not move on? Move on from
this place of stagnant things dead.
What’s done is done, what’s over
is pointless taking to task. Blame paints
us all one shade. Look back if you will,
I will not. Hell is with you, I will turn
my face to heaven.