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Please...Please...forgive me....but I won't be home again...maybe someday you'll look up...and barley conscious you'll say to no one...."Isn't something missing?"
The sun has finally set
And the long day is done...
I tried to change
But I could not be...
Wanting that which one cannot have...
Trudging along the shadowed valley
Surrounded by things I forgot once...
Wander, wear this forgotten road
Towards a visibly invisible node...
Separate the lies
from skin and bone...
This goes out to all poets and writers all over the world.
Every good writer wants their obituary to say "They died with a pencil in their pocket because they used to say that they 'Never left home without one.'"
They say that you have but one life to live and so little risks to take.
Why not take them all?
I said this went someone was complaining about the rain --
"You should be relieved that the gift that gives you life still falls from the sky."