The end should have come for us both
and not left me,
burning at each end candles don’t last forever.
Pathetic cowards dance before each step displaying their yellow brick road leading to empty promises and broken homes.
A plate fixed for fools,
spread out on a table with no end,
its legs broken and lost under the weight of the lost and forgotten moments that build a home standing barren and shattered.
Hung heads march toward the dawns new doom rising behind the veneer of a clean life,
wrung out empty like a stone lost in the endless wind of time.
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