And were I sorry for the things
I did not do but know I should
then every day would fill with tears
but resolute I stand my ground.
And blind to love and life and joy
and all the things I gave away
and most of all the hope I lost
when frailty I did not protect.
So blind I stumble, feet red raw,
and filled with rage and bile and scorn
for those who have what I so crave
yet threw away and cant regain.
That’s good.
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Have you been drawing these skull pictures too?
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Oh goodness no …i wish.stick figures are the extent of my drawing abilities
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I was about to ask you a BUNCH of questions, you dodged that bullet, LOL
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🙂
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There seems to be a recurring theme in these deep poems of yours. Kind of cool.
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Mostly they’re just words….nothing more. I think…
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Yeah… Don’t over think it. It might hurt and your head will explode! 😒
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