Sometimes in your life,
a point you reach,
there are those who matter,
and those that don't recipricate,
then sorrow begins to alate!
Fore when they choose,
to be less benevolent,
a vacuum will permeate,
fore there will always be,
some other yearning to percolate.
Worry less about the past,
undoubtedly there was lucidity,
why they reveled around in treason,
early on in your crisis season,
they're absent for that reason!
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Poem / True Confessions
Poem / War and Military
Poem / Poetry
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