i feel tired.
its sad,
how all we know,
is nought but mist
wavering, parting
in the wind,
illusions offering,
deceiving.
its sad,
how all we see,
shall simply cease,
not death defying
like living,
temporal voltages,
blinding.
its sad,
how who we know,
never see our dreams,
glossy laughter ringing
with eyes wide,
sincerely packaged gifts,
empty.
its sad, when you think the one who'll hear...
doesn't...
sometimes...
or pretends,
or contends,
or keeps you in suspense.
all of a sudden...
i feel tired.
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