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Oct 27
Across the room, you smile.
Hand in hand with your child,
her arm locked around yours, eyes bright full of gold.
"what a beautiful family" someone comments.

But I know the darkness, the hidden, the bad dream.
The tears, the echo in your soul,
that screams as you're trapped.

Their joy is built, on your pain.
Each step you take to run away, each memory that pulls you back.
The deceit, the despair, the life you built.
Your own punishment for pushing away what we both know.
A Poet
Written by
A Poet  The Moon
(The Moon)   
16
 
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