Swing Back

Let us go back

To a time before

When pages burned

As black as my core

To petty rhymes

And silly words.

To open veins

And bleeding hearts.

Forcefull tears shed

And emotions...

That bled out too quick for me to think on how stupid they were before I expressed them.


What constricts me?

I reach for something golden

In an ettempt to achieve

That which is worth calling


Yet all seems grey

Luke warm and void

And my grasp is short

I'm a blacksmith holding clay

Is there a potter holding metal?

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