waste of time

sick of being second

never being first

starving for mere morsels

while dying of near thirst

given no firm grounding

taking after hours

living in more maybes

imprisoned in these bowers

huddled on the ground

awaiting your return

knowing if you do

you’re only there to burn

die a little different

what’s the difference now

gave it all away

there really is no how

only matters when

or where they choose to be

cause only in their dreams,

do they remember me…

About lifeofawillow

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