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Christopher Feb 2014
Love.
A fickle thing.


**** it.
Christopher Feb 2014
The Room


The room is burnt down, the music not playing 
too sets of charred bones with ashes are laying
The alarms were all pulled weeks in advance
the fire department never had a chance
They had been called before, to save that room
but the only threats they found were candles abloom
So they'd put up the hose meant for a fictional flame
saying when help doesn't show you'll be to blame. 
The too would laugh and pay them no mind
turn up the music and had a good time
They thought they were saved and all was alright
little did they know the end was in sight.
 
Looking down at it now, to the room all in pieces
you can tell the advice needed, failed to be heeded
Take solace in this, that the last dance that they shared
Was with someone for which they truly cared.
 
The too who were one, when they were living
now rest in a place that I'm told is forgiving
Trees will root and grass will grow
what happened there only too will know
Maybe someday a bench with names inscribed
will be placed on the spot where the both of them died
But until that day the one will be two
destined to search for one who is true.
Christopher Feb 2014
I'm looking for a



a Reader

a Geek

a Foodie

a Lover


akin to the guilty pleasures in life


Dedicated
Honest
Free-Spirited


living a life composed of many passions


Hedonistic?
maybe
Creative?
positively
Adventurous?
constantly



I'm coming to find you

— The End —