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I sing a song of escape,

It’s lyrics about a life gone too soon,

In the dead of night, I long for the little heart beat back,

It hurt that I am expected to exulansise,

To forget the little throb that was right here,

so close to my own…

They came to see me, in eulogizing fanfare, 

They came with their kids to give me some peace,

With each childish giggle I seethed,

The men polite, patted my back,

“relax,the pot is not broken”

But I am broken,

The little throb beneath my chest is gone,

The lyrics I sing, they call them diabolical,

They say if she came back even in human likeness, It would be a lie,

The thought that she could be back just accelerates my ritual,

In the dead of night I weep,

If I could only clasp her wee little palm,

If I could have but a glimpse of that which society expects me to exulansise,

Maybe, I wouldn’t be drowning in this mess,

Like them I want to become adroit to this feeling of loss.


Wordle #141




8 thoughts on “Drowning

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