When it mattersA Poem by dukovanAdemently at the end of my rope where the joke is untold and the noose is so cold. You won't know the sorrow has broke and spilled as you drown down you lost rabbit hole won't go oh I'll never really know show up at the front door alone with your shoes worn. I don't leave at the end of word that I cared less about than the thing you won't count. It wont mean a thing to you now by the time you let go and you fall on your own. won't know oh I'll never really go showing up frequently honestly telling you though redundantly. There's a home you won't go theres no ghost Theres a ghost its not home you won't go there's no home. © 2014 dukovan |
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Added on March 29, 2014 Last Updated on March 29, 2014 |