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Rated: ASR · Poetry · Emotional · #2228029
The worst times are when your thoughts won't leave you and don't let you sleep.
Sleep evades me
My mind is a cardboard box
And my thoughts are a hurricane

Pain is what’s fueling this terrible storm
Like all storms
It will calm

Yet what happens after
For even after a storm has died
It’s results long endure

Lives and homes lie in ruin
Attempts to rebuild can now begin
But will they ever be the same?

No matter what repairs are made
Memories still can last a lifetime
The storm and damages still exist in memory’s cruel palace

Memory is a scar
And hatred is an infection
An infection that slowly corrodes its victim

The only known cure is forgiveness
Yet forgiveness is a truly bitter pill to swallow
Is it better to swallow the bitter pill than live with infection’s bite?
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