Good Things End

April 18, 2018

I knew a girl once

 

She liked to fly high

 

And gazed into the night, let the sky take her in

 

She was usually trapped in a cage

 

the home of her family

 

But she would brush against the clouds in her dreams

 

And slept on made up things, like freedom

 

She expected so much from the world

 

Things she should've known wouldn't come

 

She was on repeat, a happy machine

 

Like a broken record on heroin

 

Every day her smile would irk my sadness

 

Her brightness would get on my nerves

 

So I wiped the real, dark, side of the world on her face

 

Showed her why she can't smile all the time

 

And I suppose she drifted to that world

 

Because I never saw her again






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