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Poison

May I be a pair of ears to listen to your worries? May I hold you when you stub your toes along the way? May I catch you if you trip while in this hurry? Will you forgive me tomorrow for what happened yesterday?

No one is perfect, and I’m somebody.

“Hate isn’t worth it,” said everybody.

How can I end this poem with proper closure? It’s poison like I am, and in giving myself exposure, I hope the light keeps the demons at bay.

 
 
 

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