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Sep 23
Broken glass
Crunches under the feet
Of those lost to the sunset
Behind the corner store
Where it all went down
Something lost and nothing found
Waking up, remembering what’s right
To see what’s not left
And realizing what you are.

Pulled into the bubbling depths
Of what’s left of your soul
Clawing your way up
Ready to blow away all in sight,
All in reach.

Words drop bombs
Blowing away
Lying a foundation
Building in contrary to destroying
The walls grow higher.

What was said and repeating,
And saying it again, repeating
A fire storm of insults and pleas
Begging to keep it up


For no one wants to shoot the last breath.
Ian Robinson
Written by
Ian Robinson  17/M
(17/M)   
23
 
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