norwood on a saturday

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  • Sadness

    norwood on a saturday

    i can feel you...

    slipping away. this started so strong, im caving into my fear
    slowly cut the ties.. or maybe its me doing this and i dont even realize it.

    it wasnt supposed to be like this. she was the one; or at least i thought.

    destined to walk the earth alone.... i am becoming complacent in that role.

    we both reach for each other... it seems this is running out of steam...

    lost in her eyes, soon will be cutting all ties. i dont want this to end.

    fighting, holding on....

    jealousy, trust, confusion.

    it wasnt supposed to be like this... she was the one.

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    Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you or else it is nothing, an empty formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.

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    clarityandtruth’s Poems (59)

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