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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2183242-Lono
Rated: E · Poetry · Death · #2183242
A dismal soul’s gift to life.
Meddling with blue vibrations
A lighter and a bowl
His eyes locked on consolation
But his heart a cold stone

Don’t you see the worry
Scratching at his core
It paints him blind and colorless
His fingers slip a little more

He built a house around his doubt
Without windows or a door
He’s much to small to climb out
So he sinks into the floor

To nourish the dirt with his decay
Turn his agony to thorns
A house will crumble in its place
And through dust, a new is born
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2183242-Lono