Sorrow


It’s never been about the late-night quarrels and suspicion.
Lost hope and lengths of dire digression.
Just to be emancipated from the feeling created
Hanging head down, needing sedated.
Call another cab and just take me away
Needing no home. No destination.
You can see it in my eyes. No conversation.
Mind over matter leaving me speechless.
Digging my own grave, thinking I need this.
Yet, Sorrow doesn’t wait as it beckons to call
Left just to feel of ever feeling at all.

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