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Aug 2017
In a drunken stupor, the widow lies awake
As she waits quietly for dawn to swiftly break;
As the trumpet hums its chords and loudly plays
I can't even look at
Where he lay

Kicked from the infantry and stripped of my gun
For knowing that a victory is never truly won,
I scoff at the thankful and their euphoric praise
When I can't even look at
Where he lay

One must submit to chaos to birth a dancing star
But to walk a narrow path's to swim a pool of tar
We are merely blunders made by our own mistakes
And you want me to look at
Where he lay?

Well, I'm fully intact but I don't give a ****
Misfortune casts its shadow, a deity so grand
I follow my moonlight's eternal haze
And it won't let me look at
Where he lay

It won't let me look at
Where I lay
Written by
Brody Blue  23/M/Amarillo
(23/M/Amarillo)   
1.6k
 
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