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New Box of Old Feels

Pretty Lights

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Gravity grows
heavy
as your passage
forms to words.

A dream surreal
deep within
wonít allow
awake.

Eyes so bright with boyish
purpose
seem empty as
the gates.

A faceless stranger
delivered
on lifeís first
promise made.

A reminder of the deal
we struck
forgetful as we
wait.

Why does no one spill
a drop
his place could be
mine.

We try to think on
pretty lights
but they just
arenít






Love and Peace always Taylor R.I.P.
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Comments

  1. Dark Muse's Avatar
    This is lovely, I enjoyed reading.