I've been here since before there was stone,
I've waited an eternity to understand your bones,
But you've given no indication of your plans,
And your motive is still incomprehensible to me.
All of the reasons are not so oblivious,
Why your delicate lips were covered with disease,
And the traits that you displayed so exquisitely,
Were allowed to become just another expression of a weathered rose.
So I sit on the ledge of discontentment,
With a smile that's contaminated by the truth,
Knowing I could never approach you without your gesture,
And it appears that you'll never be separated from disdain.
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