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He didn't, and that was that.

There's no going back and erasing the past.

Life's too short not to forgive and forget.

Sometimes, there's just no time to justify where everything went wrong.

Time is a battle, a war you won't win, but you gotta push along.

Keep moving forward, you can't change the past or make it come back.

He didn't, she didn't, they didn't. It's time to accept and be okay with that.
The daily for December 6th, by Sean Critchfield titled "Poem By Chance" (check it out, it's amazing), was an exercise using the seventh book on the shelf, the seventh line on the seventh page as the first line, and only seven lines. I hope I did it right.
 Dec 2014 Bobbie Bachelor
M
Karl
 Dec 2014 Bobbie Bachelor
M
"I may or may not die soon."  "What's wrong with you?" "I'm human."
As a Fighter,
I won't let you get away.
As a free runner,
I will catch you.

As my sword comes down,
It shall glow.
Sending your soul down.
To the hell below.

As a Warrior,
I will not watch.
As you ****** people,
with your touch.

You're death,
IS MY.
**Victory..
 Dec 2014 Bobbie Bachelor
A
Nelly
 Dec 2014 Bobbie Bachelor
A
We met at that UES Pub
Almost three years ago
And we ended up getting closer
Than she who introduced us to each other.

So much history engraved
In the diamonds we sold.
Moments when it’s just us in a room typing,
Talking about our past and common dreams.

Laughter and our hold on our faith
It’s what glues us together.
All the late nights at the office with music blasting
We sing along and continue working.

We were made to be in sync,
From knowing each other’s thoughts without speaking
To that silent, judging look we share
Then chortling because things happen for "a reasons."

You are the other half of me,
From our same decibel laugh and partner appetites
To the fact that I fit in your clothes
During unplanned sleepover nights.

I might not have replied
Mostly because I was too busy hugging you and crying
But yes, and I know your heart knows this
You are my NY best friend too.
sunlight spilling over someone else's curved cheekbone
and wind howling over sharpened collarbones
isn't as beautiful as the fingers brushed over straightened noses and
lips held together by a love that doesn't exist anymore.
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