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In every silent test I set them up for failure
In every tally taken a bit of what Could be is lost

Robbing a flower of the sky's warm smile then blaming it for not knowing when to bare fruit
Stealing the eb an flow of the rivers that connect you only to show disgust at the rot and stagnation

Because of the pedestal I raised so high obelisks bow at it's legs I have had to fell you like the monuments dedicated to The vilified dead.
The army of ideal thoughts that had been at your beckon call now fuel the fires that burn the villages of our memories instead

I wish to forgive but I crave for your remorse
I trusted you but now I trust you to be you no need for my retorts.
Falling apart
thought I was better...
clearly not. I am Tender
Scabs scraped off by time
Haiku on healing and realizing poorly made stitches rip at the slightest tug
Haven't even shed Crocodile tears
Calloused feet and scaled back,
the tare and ware.

Biting wildly and deeply in to what feeds me
That desperation is the toll it has me in a death roll
This whirlwind of drip grit and flames; whilst spinning in the mud I can have no shame.

It's my pride that deluded me to think myself an ancient king of lakes and streams.
Watering holes or beach front property
On a sunny day my kind knows harmony
We only know war At the movement of opportunity.
A Petty precarious peace treaty:
Survival of the fitness; closed mouths don't get fed
Survival instinct; if you don't eat you'll be the one who loses an arm and a leg

How can I even shed Crocodile tears
When I've become the dread
Adapting or remembering. Was it the blood in my veins or the blood that's washed These eyes.
As the rain falls gilded Hearts are tempered. They fell together but crashed apart
Soft nothings out of reach to pamper
The drops fed my hunger but never filled my heart. That's a lie told by anger the last line.
The waters yielded flowers beautiful but weak to time
Though they bare fruit and seeds without roots it can never last as do trees
We are the soil for our love and enjoyment
We are the plow of our perseverance and faith
We are our beasts of burden and sacrifice
Written in a stupor
Good with, good without;
If not good with do without.

You be good with you
The title is the closing line to make it a haiku
Glass dome full Of sticks,
stones grown in a broken home.
Windows; mirrors cracked
A haiku about Esteem, trauma and self sabotage
Keep the sun in your heart,
The moon in Your mind
and so you may see far,
the stars in your eyes
A mantra and prayer
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