The Basket
Feeling the pain of all the joy,
Of all the deeds I've done -
Does mean that you've shattered the words in me.
Placing me as a mere favor of deaths,
You, with the new ego, handle the peeps of my belief.
Dragged into the realm of a shallow life,
You marked me the infected one.
Was it necessary, Like a finch in the cage of profanity, away from the joy of this world?
Like a child abandoned with the basket of shame?
2018-08-17 13:18:11
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