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rm Aug 2018
you looking at me
you listening to me
you liking me

everything was but a nightmare
a torment, such scourge
or plague, i tell you
or was it a dream, i think
beyond what words
can sentence
beyond what music
can note
beyond my anger,
my loathe
what distress you have
shower me
from giving me
such false, untrue hope
and i fell, seriously,
to the trap.

— The End —