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An excuse to die

November 4, 2013

I look at happy folk and see only a lie

A common weakness indulged

from which they cannot be expulged

An excuse to stop living, an excuse to die:

To themselves and all they believe

in favor of a little affection received

A brief moment of distraction

from their diseaséd contraction:

An agreement to hold each other close

in a carefully contrived dose

A measured procurance

a mutual reassurance:

To hide from the thoughts in their bulbous head

telling them that they have long ago shed

all hope of their own achieving

for the sake of this compound deceiving. 

I cannot shake these dark feelings

from them I do not want healing

I won’t hide behind such shady dealings

my soul forever I’ll be revealing

I wouldn’t want to be a partner to such a bare-faced crime,

this currently fashionable pastime

of killing truth, time after time.

(Note: I made up a couple of words in this poem, expulged and procurance, poetic licence!) 
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