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Rated: E · Poetry · Emotional · #1740781
a poem about a glimpse of the end

We never see how we look
And rarely care how we feel
Tied in knots by how little we know
And less by the crumbs we steal

Slap the open hand of a stranger
It means we'll hang for real?
Truly there are no witnesses left
No scars to prove we kneel

You never cared if I smiled with pride
Or knew it was only you I saw
When you opened my eyes for the very first time
I stared weak at a gaping maw

We took all manner of chances
Never paused to catch our breath
So many others drowned and cheated
But they never cheated death

If I had a chance to live again
I'd probably do the same thing, son
Leave everyone I love at an empty table
And just keep shuffling on
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1740781