Of all the memories found, ignite
Are fading through this broken light
As all things lost, must so the night
Escape beyond beloved sight
Against such dark elusive plight
Rise up the courage, will to fight
A final stand to stay the blight
Which separates us from what is right












Comments
Good job; it sounds wonderful, and it describes well enough your point, without just stating it.
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Actually, roughly 40% of the teenage population has tried pot. So stop trying to be cool, 60%, or I'll fucking eat you.
And to think this whole poem just started out with me thinking what words rhymed with "night"...
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Fuck, I'm thinking too hard. I'm gonna take a nap.
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