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Rated: E · Poetry · Other · #2271074

3 a.m in the morning

I have played the game
Life, coldly unchanged
Except

My heart fragmented
My soul dog-tired
And yet

By some unknown luck
And sheer happenstance
I can

Remain standing tall
My broom in my hand
Gripping

To sweep away dust
The stark evidence
Scanning

Before someone sees
My dark circumstance
Hiding
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