Friday, October 5, 2018


The wetness of tragedies lost to our histories
And saved in our stories
The loneliness of awareness never boring
But is our stories

It takes a loving hand to share our glories
An endless land to spare our follies
A natural life to bring our honies
To the queen, which hears our stories


You can't say more, you can't win more
You want to be there, you can only be where you are
It hurts all day, all night and it's all you are
It hurts all day, all's what you've got


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