Hope is not here
A feather on the Wing
Of Tomorrows dove

The early bird gets
The Worm
I won't take another bite
From your poison apple

Like Sleeping Beauty
I wrap myself unnessasarily
In the folds of your pain
I drink deeply in your cries

It eases me to feel your ache
I am pleased to have given it to you
Don't throw your trash
In my backyard, my backyards full

I feel you slip away,
White Dove,
You never existed.

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