these words flow through the page
stifling thoughts
whirling about my withering head
spending the time that i bought
finishing business that cannot be addressed
reaching and failing to secure
the right words to describe my thought
its just drops...
off the tip of my tounge, on the sharp of my cheek
the set of the sun, the strength of the weak
continue to run away from the struggle
the pain will recede as the time will double
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