deepundergroundpoetry.com
It’s a bit dramatic, innit?
Could it be twin flame
Diagnosis: insane
I’m unfit for this game
Mediocre chair
Floor laid in shorn off hair
I left a candle there
Eyes stare into mirrors
Judging his reflection
Swallowing the darkness inside
Rising for the masses
Kneeling upon ovation
But who catches the tears that he cries?
My darkened skies hold lullabies
Sung from a tongue that isn’t mine
It’s a tragedy, but I’ll survive
Diagnosis: insane
I’m unfit for this game
Mediocre chair
Floor laid in shorn off hair
I left a candle there
Eyes stare into mirrors
Judging his reflection
Swallowing the darkness inside
Rising for the masses
Kneeling upon ovation
But who catches the tears that he cries?
My darkened skies hold lullabies
Sung from a tongue that isn’t mine
It’s a tragedy, but I’ll survive
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