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dead poet Nov 22
i believe it was a tuesday morning!
i remember i had a reason to wake up -
to squeeze the last bit of toothpaste
from the tube.
to get right back in the ******* loop.

i believe i caught a glimpse of a child
through the foggy bathroom mirror,
laced with my minty breath.
it felt strange...
i took offense at his looks,
the way he eyed me down.
in his defense though,
i had caught him with his guards down.

he didn't say much,
not that he did anyway.
just nodded softly at me,
whispered almost,
'alright! guess i'll be going then...'
with a flicker of a smile
never to be seen again.

i believed at the time it was best for him
to not see the light on my face go dim
didn't realize then i'd pay such a solemn price;
as I let him go, not thinking twice.

i believe it came quite naturally to me -
finding good reasons not to be.
that day, i found yet another;
it was just enough to help me see -
the error of my ways...
like a rat in a maze, how i end up
reliving the worst of my days.

i still believe i could turn things around.
give the kid a reason to be proud.
i'd whisper softly into the foggy bathroom mirror,
'we're ok, little buddy...
everything's going to be ok!'
i believe i could get him to say,
'alright... i'll stay!'

— The End —