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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 ...

Uneven

When I look out of the window,
They talk to me and tell me about their day..
I keep on complaining,
While they keep saying how it's much better..
To strive..
In an uneven way,

For them their season is over,
Changing color as they have started to fade away..
But even when that's happening,
They are happy..
And don't even utter it once,
That they dislike the array...
Or pleading even once that they wish if they could stay...

Nothing Stays The Same Forever....

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