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What Could Have Been
Through stormy seas with roaring waves
Upon my matchstick raft
I lie in an uncaring haze
Trying to recall last time I laughed
The sea lays her cold fingers
Upon my salt soaked skin
The warmth that for so long had lingered
Had fled my body the moment I embarked
Upon my voyage of fate
And since had not sparked
Now I think, why wait?
I roll into the sea’s embrace
The water closes in
With one last breath
One last glance
I think of what could have been.

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