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Weaklings

for fear you jeer,

in self-preservation, it's clear.

we bring ourselves so low,

sometimes, the moment gets cold.

sign of weakness,

we stretch, at our thinnest.

huddled in self-obsession,

truths hidden from confession.

for who we yearn,

yet we never could earn.

this day we part,

quite really, presents an art.

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Written by
dyllies
Published
Jun 8, 2010
Lines·Words
12·51
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