Micro-Poetry #12

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1:

Futility:

Words of stiffness amounting to nothingness,

Pain of anger-filled outbursts,

Burned by the flames of the rage-fuelled fire;

Scorched, scarred and charred:

Feeling the bitter sting eternally.

 

2:

I feel the burden,

I feel it.

Sporadically.

Heavy like the weight of one thousand men,

Then sometimes as if never to be seen again.

Though underneath the sun-lit sky,

Bring me promises that you will try.

Bring me truths that hath such truth;

Grant me ability to let the pain die.

2 thoughts on “Micro-Poetry #12

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