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I once knew a boy
Who breathed in words like air
We crafted a book together
And selected each sentence with great care

That boy was the best part of every genre
He flowed like sweet poetry,
Kept my thoughts racing like a thriller,
And never gave everything away like all good mysteries  

But that boy left cold turkey
Scrawled me a messy ending
He would never bother to rewrite
I guess that he was only pretending

I never thought you
Would pull a Mockingjay on me
Unsatisfied and bitter
Is how I will forever be

Because our love is a cliffhanger
And you pushed me over the edge
The days waiting for you like
The wind carrying ripped pages

It was anticlimactic
No closure in sight
You let go like it was nothing
While I hold on with all my might

And so you will continue
To breathe in hearts
The way you do air
To you, it's become an art

I will carry on
Gripping a jutting branch called hope
I'll pray you give me a sequel
To the romance we wrote
I had to insult Mockingjay, i'm sorry. I just had to.

— The End —