One point stretches into many

Corpses like sandbags built this wall.
There’s patches of grass now
atop bottom layers.
Relevance grassroots in
metaphysically authentic soil.
No headstones for these people.
No respect for them payed
but they’re
a real reason I’m here.

Too many are guilty for one pronoun
to one but we all know to whom.
So beyond that.



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