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Rated: E · Poetry · Other · #2322914
Sorrow of a little teen.
I have to live my many lives pent up alone
Unfortunately this bond was too hard to catch
And so I am unsure whether or not to rot
On this cold pile of grass that once healed me before.

The colors of the world does not appeal to me
Since the day my heart was born it cries out alone
Never did I reside on both wanting and grief
Because I saw the light at the end of the street

In some times my very own eyes deceives me
Drowned by tears as the swelling sun dries it out
Wanting always the world that was nothing more
But a mere facade for a soul that falls out.

I reach for the highest mountain top
And evergreen delightens when I stop
Though and so when I walk this faded path
A rosebud flee from me thats had to catch.


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