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An Ending Complete 


Sometimes the end,
Isn't the end.
You haven't yet learned the lesson.

Your hope still clings,
To the dead vine of summer,
The true fruit of wrath.

Then one day you awaken,
Tired of the hard brittle vines,
You've literally loved through death.

You don't try to mangle, just disentangle.
You turn away and leave them to their fate,
And live your life better for it.

Brenneman T. February 10, 2002
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