buring
the sheets are washed
the aroma is gone
the day has passed and the night has to
the burned out mark has not
washed out has not lost its power
it stairs at me with those gleaming eyes
and taunts me
taunts me everywhere I look
the past the future all look the same
mocking and joking it seems at times
of choices made and roads took
of songs that left this burning lung
of pain endured and sorrows shared
no more no more
must stop
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