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By: Kyle Jacobson

Broken hearts, broken limbs, broken lives. How can something so sour be so sweet on the minds of the hungry? Arbitrary with no arbiter. Revered, aggrandized, in generations past. To hold it o’er the heads of the living and place dirt atop the rest.

Hero, the word holds meaning like a sieve,

full the moment it’s poured,

drained in a blink. 

To die young and be admired for successes, or to die old and be forgotten for shortcomings.

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