Proof; Symbols; Crash; Strum

I’ve done it right, if not once,

but twice in my life, I never

want to know when, though,

knocking rust from my shoes

feels better but badder still, and

yet I travel, still, maybe for

the next time in the dark, under

skinny stars, squinting through

deep clouds, well at least from

here, if I had a dim lighthouse to

climb, for you, with you, we

could see their rays, for real, for

eternity, but in depth, the death

is too real, not a figment, but

I try to live on, past it all, let

this moment, the one in which

you remember your successes,

be the last memory, the final

piece of the ballad, the whistle

soldiering on, succulent-sweet,

this trip is the last time you

choose to think, about this,

about this one thing, for once

and lift the lights for the curtain

call, and bow, but try not to fall

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~ by Shawn M. Young on November 21, 2017.

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