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A Prison Filled With Smoke

 I drew with a pencil that broke in the middle I drew with the shorter half that choked on the riddle I knew it was going to be harder to hide my fiddle I drew on top of a scar that had been ripped open too far I drew the stitches to cover the leakage in rage I made the lead to break I drew dark glasses to hide my eyes from lies that cover my face I drew empty classes where I teach freedom I knew no one would come and take the risk that it encompasses I drew the bucket  that has holes everywhere I drew the station that never sees a train only the pain of everything passing right through the empty tracks I drew a relation that is always in tension what should I say how should I pay what should I do not to stay I drew a blanket to cover my soul I drew a bullet to destroy the ghoul I knew someone will call me out I knew someone will shout I drew a chair where I can sit and think about being fair I drew a floor filled with gravity of good time smoke gathered around me suddenly, I ...

Everyone



Not everyone will miss you.
Not everyone will love you.
Not everyone will see you.
Nor seek you..
Or hold you..
And not everyone will understand you.
Not anyone will make you cry.
Not anyone will fetch you lie.
Not anyone will take you.
Or shake you.
And push the world for you.
If that one does..
If that one you find.
Then even a single moment counts.
And even a nickel mounts.
That one can be anyone among everyone.
But if that one did pause time.
It’s not to be considered mime.
Yet No one is left..
No one can get lonely.
And no one goes dark.
Holding onto the last bark..
But no one is brave teaches you love.
When no one is around.
Standing aloof in the crowd..
Bruised yet healing proud.

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