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Apr 2014
There you are!
I've come to find you,
still crumbling, an Ozymandias,
an echo of who you once were.

Tell me, how does that sand taste?

I am no villain, but I am
in every word you twisted,

Lay a crown upon your broken heart,
and destroy my history,
reduce me to
a capricious *****
who callously left you
to wither in the desert.

You should've been the one
carrying me,
but you were too busy
stealing my water, and breaking my spine.

Once, my small arms clung
to the hem of your royal cloth,  

Do you remember my little knees wobbling,
after you kicked me in the stomach?

I fell on my face and tasted the sand.
Devon Franklin
Written by
Devon Franklin
507
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