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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