One tragedy hits.
It hits hard.
Harder than before,
You let go…
But you cannot…
Anymore.
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They fight over pennies now.
What’s mine’s not your’s…
Anymore.
Not since Father left,
Has we felt whole.
Our problems=
(Now) our own.
We don’t know,
Anything anymore.
He kept us,
As he led us…
Us undeserving…
His grace, like God (what such influence);
I believe they could believe.
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…But we’re fighting over quarters,
Let alone dimes.
What’s mine is no longer yours.
But why? I could be yours.
Your troubles resolved.
Your solution/s,
But you want my problems…
When I don’t have them to give.
This could be so easy…
As easy as tragedy gets…
A family of challenge:
We die or we live,
But I fear the in-between…
Of struggling since your teens…
With nothing to show.
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I’ve told you before,
My snow,
My angel…
My blue eyes, Princess.
But you don’t, i assume you can’t,
Listen anymore.
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I am sorry…
but I am still right:
All the mistakes…
were taken before.
“What doesn’t kill you”…
Wants you a whore.
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So i try, i buy,
But i can’t let go…
As far as I’ve tried,
And i’ve mined…
I’ve learned.
These coins were made to be sold…
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Or, maybe…
I’ve been told.
So let it go;
…I let it go.
Let life live and forever before torn,
We’ve sworn:
allegiance…
A million times ago.
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Let alone, let a hold of you be taken,
Not sold, for the telling be told:
These horror stories hold thorns,
Closer than the rose.
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We’re beautiful, (if) we stay,
We’ve been here, so…
Cry over your spilt milk;
I’m sorry you can’t let go;
I’ll be here when your story’s told,
To tell them ever more,
Onwards, I bestow…
The queen you could have been…
...before the storm.