Short and the youth grow up so fast….part 38…

T minus Happily ever after

He ducks and weaves

But can never leave

He’s cursed to wither her

Like Autumn’s leaves

My so-called beloved

The bringer of all my pain

And sorrow


She fights and roars

And collects the sores

Her heart trampled

And on all fours

My penance gift wrapped

As my present

And my impending

Future eternal


They know not why each day they die

Burn bright phoenix’s ashes on groundhog’s wry

The answers shy from the questions ‘Why?’

But somehow they manage to just get by.


Each day at dawn, their lives I mourn

And desperately wonder

Would they be happier

If I was never born?


‘Probably not’ sits

This rhetorical’s myth

But not an ounce of our sadness

Does it lift



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