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Death is eternal.
We Fear it,
We hold it,
We embrace it,
But we can never,
Truly face it.
there must be something missing
which I cannot seem to find
I have sweet lips for kissing
yet I feel in a bind…
the mirror gives no answer
my questioning grows so great
these thoughts act like a dancer;
or the spinning of a plate
I must find the way to peace
before I slip off some edge
if only I could release
or at least find leverage
but balance eludes me still
so I flounder and flail
too bad there is not a pill
which could right my wind-whipped sail.
I find myself lamenting
again through this medium
constantly reinventing
the long road to tedium
I do appreciate your time
as I process my feelings
so glad this is not a crime
to write poetry for healing
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