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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 ...

You Do

I always thought..
You cannot forget someone.
Who gets trapped as a known one.
But one day when they suddenly leave you do..
I always thought..
Tears just result in meltdown.
After which comes endless frown.
But once gone after which they stitch a redo you do..
I always thought..
You can never get up after a slippery fall..
With bruises all over.
But if you are in charge of the little sapling clutched in your arm you do..
I always thought..
Scars leave a mark.
For a lifetime embark.
But if you have the edge to shed out the old skin you do..
I always thought..
Fate is a mishap.
That only you can overlap.
And if you do it reveals what you really are..

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