The story, characters and events in this poem are entirely fictitious.
Any similarity to actual persons living or dead or to actual events is purely coincidental.

You're fallacious.
Alcoholics are good and yes I'm superstitious.
Spirituality is nebulous.
Death is a transition.
Why aren't they telling you that on the television?
They tell you to buy exercise equipment,
All you have to do is go for a run and never stop.
You think it's the millennium because of Nineteen Eighty Four blue skies.

Pan pipes you may know
Suggest that the hours and days and years
Are like the flow in our veins
Something the Medieval alchemists created in awe of a God
Any pagan worth his weight doth honour.

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