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Lightless
October 11, 2015
The last candle flame was just blown out...
And my final matchstick burned down
And scorched my fingers.
I would say I could pull out my lighter
But he's somewhere,
Probably home.
So I'll walk into the darkness,
To freeze
While I think about the way
They never notice
They call me a liar,
And scoff at the mere notion that I am
Trying.
I try so hard.
© Brian M., Fishers, IN
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