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Rated: ASR · Poetry · Emotional · #1757126
It's not the first conversation that is wrong. It's being used later that is.
The pain, it is tightening
Its strong grip on me.
Someday I will stop fighting
The voices in me.

I take my bright shining star
Out into the air
But I did not run too far,
Scared that none would care

Absorbed within my own pain
I was blind to light
Struggling with my inner stain
Lost before the sight

But I live in my life now,
Not worlds apart,
I swear ne’er to take a vow
Trapping my free heart.

What might be the cause of this?
Why, since I left you
I’ve been feeling total bliss
From not being blue.

I know that you have used me.
I have seen my fill
Of your sluttish cruelty
That kill mind and will.

‘tis a good thing you are gone
Fast and far away
So I might know my own dawn
Free of foreign sway

Many things I don’t regret
Having seized upon,
But with you I guess I met
With an exception.

Seizing you gave tears to me
And endless sorrow.
One thought still heals quickly
Sharp Cupid’s arrow:

I am glad to not have passed
Up our chance to meet.
Best to lose a chance miscast
Than never to compete.
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