she died long before that day I know this tortured, grieving heart of mother no longer knew her own being
and as the sun set on another, you fell through dying dreams
but could not catch them and I could not catch you.
hiding below my shadow yet dancing above my fears
I grip sorrow's edge as you crumble to fall at my soul's tears
I have not forgotten you
but sometimes I can't help feeling numb through and through
closed hands on open arms hold nothing
saetia
hits close to home.
__________________
poet,I'm sick of your pretty lies.
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