And then, I broke my pen,
Left a poem undone again.
The path was clear, the goal was near,
Yet, I turned away in silent fear.
She once said, "This isn’t fate,
I’m not the one; it’s far too late.
You’re so kind, my closest friend."
And so, my kindness met its end.
I shed my light, embraced the night,
Turned my wrongs into...
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