Tuesday, December 2, 2014

Till the Sun Goes Down

Single frames
separate the beautiful
from the simple

But the simple was always
The most beautiful.

Write, servant.
Write my story.

Tear the frames apart
To where I am a warrior
To where my heart is true.

I only write truth,
Layers of halves

I still write,
Attempting still to keep
The sun from going down:

When I will tell him,
I am sorry.
I am sorry for the truth.


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