If You Tolerate This Then Good For You

More poetry from the master of ignoring important things and people in order to write inane rubbish.


10. The Past Seeks Closure

A pitter-patter of rain masks my pain. I'm lost and found hiding underground. From vices and sin, from the tempestuous beast within. There is no shame in regrets that wax and wane with the passing hour. A blooming flower. Is not what it seems, it fades in and out of my dreams. Like a bad penny and it feels too heavy on my weary mind. Tenderised until I am blind. A voice cries out, with that my flame dies out.

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