Oh, how they scheme

To remind this mind

Of a rash decision,

Of rationalized madness

That made sadness

Out of joy

Just to toy

A soul employed to loneliness.


A short age,

Regretful rage

And page,

After page,

After page,

Of literary therapy

To inspire thee

To give a chance,

A second chance

To break the trance

Of memory,

Sweet memories,

That were once such grand realities.


Selfish, I know,

To have shelved this

Just as it was to spare

A heart ensnared and bitter

For with her,

He was free,

And now without, he can see

The fool that used to be 


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