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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.
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Jun 22, 2024
Jun 22, 2024 at 1:15 AM UTC
It wasn’t what I meant
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.
MyDearPoet
Written by
M/Bottom of the Jar
Jun 22, 2024
Jun 22, 2024 at 1:15 AM UTC
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