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I like the way you play my heart
Not knowing, I set a trap
That would break you apart.
Ray of sunlight hits —
Burning my skin through my soul
Ashes flew up to the sky.
Mater wouldn't bother if bother didn't mater so if you bother to mater then I will bother with you😊
my thoughts about you do not rhyme
they are too twisted to repeat
the part of me that wants you
is a part of me that cannot speak
Music might be
poetry,
sung in grief,
in joy,
in sonorous voices.
With high pitches,
and tones.
Leaping much too deep.
A loud and clear,
periodically wordless tone.
A music piece
might be a love note,
with pure emotions
running deep.

A piercing of life's purity.
Of trust's transformation
into pitiful betrayal.

Dirge's death tune.
An ode, a praise song.
An elegy,
with instruments finely shaped.
The result of an innovative
craftsman's energy.
Music could anything we term it to be. Sometimes poetry is my music. What is yours?
set me free

you know I have no tomorrow

stuck in a loop
I don't change anymore

set me free

I'm a disappointment
don't look

I know it's all my fault

set me free

I will fall

splattered all over the floor

set me free

drowning in a bathtub

set me free

I'll be waiting in the darkness
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