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RMatheson
Poems
Feb 2019
Happiness
He was cursing again.
The brittle drops of saline etched
their ways down his face,
carving evaporation trails.
He just couldn't fight
the feeling
anymore,
like that stupid ******* song.
Lashing out, he destroyed it all.
Smiling, he died.
Written by
RMatheson
Beating tired bones
(Beating tired bones)
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Monique Matheson
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