The door to the
entrance whispered ‘click’
No further way in could
be found
Those left outside in
the stinging wind
Barely uttering a sound
Days like this more
common every day
With populations fast
increasing
As number games like
dying flames
Leave late arrival
hopes decreasing
To gain a place among
the in crowd
Within the limited
partial few
Who have no heart for
those irregular?
Even less for those who
queue
In the last gasps of
spontaneous
Where too many have too
much
Attendance now a
five-year plan
Even superstars go Dutch
As the party bells
stop ringing out
All strains of
overtures subside
With regretful
anti-climax
Your space now
reigns with those denied
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