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A Prison Filled With Smoke

 I drew with a pencil that broke in the middle I drew with the shorter half that choked on the riddle I knew it was going to be harder to hide my fiddle I drew on top of a scar that had been ripped open too far I drew the stitches to cover the leakage in rage I made the lead to break I drew dark glasses to hide my eyes from lies that cover my face I drew empty classes where I teach freedom I knew no one would come and take the risk that it encompasses I drew the bucket  that has holes everywhere I drew the station that never sees a train only the pain of everything passing right through the empty tracks I drew a relation that is always in tension what should I say how should I pay what should I do not to stay I drew a blanket to cover my soul I drew a bullet to destroy the ghoul I knew someone will call me out I knew someone will shout I drew a chair where I can sit and think about being fair I drew a floor filled with gravity of good time smoke gathered around me suddenly, I ...

Struggle

Try telling a story or two..
Try saving memories for few.
Try putting knots in a queue..
Try erasing plots for new.
Try mugging jargon..
Try an empty wagon.
Try being sadistic impolite..
Try searching for a kryptonite.
Try an unrealistic view..
Try returning the clue.
Try an imaginary arcade..
Try darkness invade.
Try playing narrow..
Strike with a blunt arrow.
Try defeating the juggle..
Try owning the Struggle.

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