A Poets Dying Thoughts

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As I fall.

I’m staring at you all. 

Over my head,

I’m not one to complain.

 

Face the truth,

and all the battles of my youth. 

Hard to ignore,

all your screaming sounds. 

 

When does the devil run and go asleep?

Like how do you know when waters below your knees.

The sun feels like a gaping hole, 

that holds all the light of mine. 

 

The standard is now growing fake,

It was a love that you loved to hate.  

I can’t stand all these things we do.

I want to stand and wait for you. 

 

I am on my way out. 

The tunnel of light it gleams and it’s so bright.

I am on my way out.

My youngest tied of all the words that I need to say.

 

Why can’t my head contemplate you?

Why can’t you be still see this through?

Why can’t the walls cave in on me,

and keep me there for eternity?

 

Can we stop and start the right way?

As I wait for death to take me. 

Would it be simple if we did that,

and stop the train right in its tracks. 

 

I am on my way out. 

The tunnel of light it gleams and it’s so bright.

I am on my way out. 

My youngest tied of all the words that I need to say.

Remember me

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The Poet

I have this memory, subtle at first but then it echoes through all of my bones and it feels like a distant dream. I look

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