With the mind set to work
Only one can continue
to believe
the words one utters
and the ideals one portrays
no matter the time
no matter the day
i am intrigued
and sit
and i wait
wondering
awaiting
what i believe
to be true
hoping
the world
will remain intact
and not crumble
around me once more
waiting for the pain
i hope will never come
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I can't write poetry anymore... My heart is dead...
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