Is It Poetry
dear some things,
are simply taken at the post....
and hast is when..
it's least sought and granted..
some host with them...
and as such with you all the more..
and in the mix with such...
lays your past happy ways...
i framed that... when.. there..
and you so lost...
went thereof and past...
so then...must i here again..
speak too you there..
what made you take your last breath..?
and suicide so neat and no mess..
such care with your body you took...
i heard there were some issues of trust..
and thus perplexed i look down upon you..
and you are still soft..around the right edges..
that word..yes pliable..
pliable and yes you are..and know one will know..
your different...and how we can keep you out all night...
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