Self Loathing
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Wither away in my old shoes
rust brown thoughts
sorrow is not anyone's possession
a single tear belongs to us all
I know
I have stolen the book of wisdom
in the blackness of life
looking back
I see it all
beauty
loneliness
sad songs
beaten dreams
In a broth scolded hot
boiling all my clichés
steam fills the windows pain
but I do not see this
A burden of proof
I can no longer carry
the light switch , switched off
the stars sleep
Copyright © Arthur Vaso | Year Posted 2018
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