Poem #13

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this loneliness is killing me
slowly I'm dieing inside
a musical musician
who was forced to hide

I am like a guitar
the strings are my friends
all strings got cut off though
so I am lonely in the end

The music was my happiness
but without strings I can no longer play
I am useless now
meant to be thrown away

Now I sit in the closet
Untouched by anyone
tuneless with no muse
my purpose is done


-SomethingDark

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