Wednesday, November 21, 2012

Unfinished

The pain you forget; a feeling you remember.
Driven by an impulse to save whatever lingers,
A broken soul copes and ceases a November.
Face one more tomorrow with intertwined fingers.

A heart of gold that does not know how to behold;
And another that is willing to be stepped on.
Differences can be as perfect as the cold;
As flawless as the hue of an unending dawn.

Drag me deeper and drown me 'til I'm only air.
To not continue this is my only escape.
Believe me when I say such words are not unfair.
This is surely better than a moonless moonscape.

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