Your poems,
they're just like you.
They are angry.
They are full of pain.
But mostly,
like you,
they are full of lies.
Just like you,
they make me cry.
Because of all the memories,
all those years,
the good poisened by your
lies.
You don't talk to us anymore,
so I guess that gets rid of the lies.
I could hold on,
I could fight.
After all I thought we were friends for life...
Yes, I could try,
but then, so could you.
You don't want to.
Why do I?
You chose to say goodbye,
so I guess it's time that I do to.
Goodbye...
But don't think I won't miss you.
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