So, here's the thing
With poetry
It no longer means that much to me.
Or is that the way
I want it to be?
I know it means less to you
You made it clear
I understood
You read
You read
You turned away
You read
And turned away
Life goes on
Fuck we're all so busy.
So fucking busy
Oh, that doesn't rhyme
It started so well
Turned to hell
(Fuck yes, I can rhyme)
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