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by Logan
Rated: E · Poetry · Experience · #2110657
Some things are never over

No more thinking of you
and all the things you do
The places that you occupy
and times you never knew
Just how close you have been
So lucky to be missed
With courage left in short supply
and pride low on the list
Pride set low for stumbles
I never took the fall
Yet still my world it tumbles
With every curtain call
Random times you show yourself
Through data, flesh and blood
Ghosts of you, both old and new
Just rush back in a flood
Washed through with the deluge
The fantasies return
and through a coward's dialogue
Internal pages burn
Scorched a sickly yellow stripe
Before they can be read
Aloud by other ears, heard
A script locked in my head
A tale that will not be told
A cast left undisclosed
Narrated, faded ink, less bold
With questions left unposed
Thrown out from a hectic stage
An audience not there
Performances, long tired, frayed
An active mind too scared
Afraid of honest answers
Of an outcome, bad reviews
Who needs second chances,
when the first one isn't used?
and now the final curtain falls
This pantomime is done
Waiting for a fool's applause
To start another run
For now the show has run its course
The ghost has left the room
No more thinking of you
… we'll catch up sometime soon
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2110657-Encore