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Broken
January 24, 2015
rose colored glasses perched upon our noses
covering our hopeful wondering eyes
for us, everything has possibility every day is a new beginning
we sail down the gold-paved streets like butterflies
falling
falling
falling
the blood of your dashed hopes seeps into the freezing ground
you look up at me and scream
we sit in silence for days waiting listening for something- ANYTHING- that will make it right again
but it never comes
and I place flowers on your grave
© Anonymous
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