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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