Swan Song

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The last drop of ink, on the worn out page

I have to leave, I have bigger mountains to scale.

I can’t bow out with a whimper, but I don’t really write

letters to every other person who knows me.

…………………………………………………………………..

The winter’s come to cheers, the fragile rose that you’ve become,

I didn’t mean to put your heart out, exposed to feelings you’ve never known.

If only you had deciphered my heart, I would have been there.

I’m happy with my prayers, the ones that give me fickle hope.

I’ll close in on your hand, dreams become visible to me,

but I’m at the end of my rope.

…………………………………………………………………

I’m moving on to something, the outcome’s unknown.

The toss of a coin, soft murmurs to the loud groans.

The fun away from the sun, or talking on the phone,

I have to leave it all behind, you aren’t there any more.

………………………………………………………………….

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