Sunday, May 11, 2014

May

I used to dream that I would bring that hope to your life
But I think I let you run dry.
I thought that one day
I could save you
But I think maybe I brought you right to hell.
Sometimes I wonder
What it would be like
If I never said a word to you
If I never even whispered.
Would you be alive?
Would you be alright?
I wonder if I buried your casket 
In a hole dug by me.
I hate to think
That you were killed by poetry.

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