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Apr 2021
Some days I mourn my childhood
Washed away into the sea, on a brittle wooden raft
The world was so far out of reach
But my heart was dying to be crushed by it
I was a jester, making everyone else's bleeding heads fill with laughter
The sweat leaked from our palms
Hard labor for unappreciative guests
And I ache for the pain we shared
It was ours to grow together, over watered and drowned by the old shed out back
Now the distance in our lives grows larger
And I am proud of what we made
But I miss you terribly.
Monique Matheson
Written by
Monique Matheson  30/F/Arizona
(30/F/Arizona)   
  1.5k
     Imran Islam and RMatheson
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