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Jun 22
You’re that feeling that burns
every time you’re filled, not spent
we go back to learn
It wasn’t what I meant

The strong promises and lines
that couldn’t be broken, you bent
among all the go around rhymes
It wasn’t what I meant

The absent truths and stains
of every little word stolen, you lent
only to borrow pain and play
It wasn’t what I meant

and when you finally understood
phrases couldn’t be ripped, but rent
now there’s that silent separation
It wasn’t what I meant.
My Dear Poet
Written by
My Dear Poet  M/Bottom of the Jar
(M/Bottom of the Jar)   
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