Poems

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When I said
That I wasn't coming back
I actually meant
That I'm afraid
Of turning the page
Don't worry
It haunts me, too
A dove left the branch behind
Which we then
Proceeded to eat
Forever
Just like when
We consummated
Our conceit;
Endeavour
Now I'm bored of you
Now that I realize
I won't leave this poem behind
That's for sure
Proof of my genius
Is meant for
A genius
And I hate you, too
And why are you still here?
And what in God's name
Are you still doing
To yourself?
Jay CastroComment