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Rated: E · Poetry · Other · #2069675
It's for and about a dear friend.
I appeared drenched in the rain,
Borne from the darkest of pain.
It poured of its own accord,
At your threshold it struck a cord.
Annotations rose and the orchestra came alive,
My soul twirled, rose and took a dive.
It wore pain even as it danced,
Cutting at the heinous air around.
Friend, the pain I wear is happier;
Kinder to me as you appear.
From the air it descends
Dried of sorrow, it's routine it ends.
Back into me for another day,
With you by me on my way.
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