Thirty-TwoA Poem by Not here
Forgive me.
You give me the only thing I love. Unfold me then hold me. You're falling from above. I'm losing, I'm choosing to give up my own breath. You're moving and approving of my burial then death. The world's cost is time lost to be who you want to be. The dot.com's are time bombs. We're drowning in our sea. Man-made and world trade are raining on our heads. Blood-sprayed and outweighed, we're cannibals with beds. I am the losing choice in the war. We could be choosing the keys to our man-made doors.
© 2016 Not hereAuthor's Note
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Added on May 19, 2016Last Updated on June 6, 2016 Author
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