**** a sweetheart,
Leaving cavities,
Remember me by's,
Memories,
Both warm and unkind.
All just a toothache.
Broken hearts heal like spinal cord separations,
You never walk the same way again.
This is my youth,
These are the days I am beautiful-
And only for a minute.
What do I do with it?
Waste,
As most do.
How dreadfully average of me.
On park benches next to the elderly wise
In the library where the University lies
At seminars hosted outside for free
Or lecture halls with Professors facing me
In all these lands
My mind expands
For,
I lean in to learn where wisdom won it's wreath
And come away with a sword that knows no sheath
If the sun is the crown of the earth,
Pridefully raising life,
From the comfort stillness of sleep,
Then I am a second born moon-
No heir to the throne.

I slip by the day sky like jealousy,
To only move oceans as teardrops,
Aching from a dream.
Written July 9th, 2016. Read a
notebook of mine and fell in love with a few oldies.
...my life will be measured
In empty beer cans,
Cigarette butts
And ashes...

But somebody will remember the promise and potential of my youth.
As this world degrades,
And we've had enough of the old ways.

I can only wonder what becomes,

After this new birth,
Decays.

I know this world's rules,
And the ones before,

And I will know of what comes next,

But I will not know what rules,
As they call the next of next,

The fool.
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