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The Tragedy of Good-bye
There’s something sad.
There’s something gone.
There’s something about good-bye.
There’s something that starts with
Like the river
Change like the flood.
Cleansing, Rushing, Transforming,
Foreign, Fearful, Pure.
Change like my days
Slipping through my fingers.
The sand in my hourglass
Draining to the bottom.
My desert storm burying those memories,
Protected in my heart, locked in my mind.
Change is my enemy,
Change is my friend.
Change means good-bye.
Good-bye means the end.
Why do I cringe and why do I cry
At the mere mention of something called good-bye?
I want to go, compelled to stay.
Torn between safety, torn between chances.
Torn between this something called good-bye.
One foot out, the other in.
Open one door, can’t let the other close.
My future blows, and one shatters shut.
With each exhale, there’s something called good-bye.
With each whisper, I know…
There’s something desperate.
There’s something broken
There’s something about the tragedy of good-bye.
But there’s something here, there’s something new.
There’s something impossible, but something true.
There’s something called fate and there’s something called hope, and
hope will guide me through this
Something called good-bye because
I believe in hope and She believes in me and
She has felt the cold hard touch of the tragedy of good-bye.
This Hope lives in me.