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Morrison Leary Dec 2014
Sitting there, on a porch, alone in my head.
A present of life is gifted, an icy chill.
Shooting through the spine,
hands down, by the side, massaging the warmth.
Artistic moisture falls upon the brow,
melting with my heart.
Doubt unravels, the simple truths,
the simple lies, awakening of my mind.
Sunshine makes a subtle appearance,
corrupting the mask, revealing the hide.
To start small, to end it all.
Wallowing in the madness,
darkness arrives.
Happiness misplaced,
tears completely dried,
trapped on the never-ending ride.

— The End —