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There was nothing more he could do.
However, there was one.
To hide from it all,
He only had to run.
But he was found,
And captured by his own.
Little did he know,
His life was about to be blown.
His friends were all lined up with a shotgun in hand.
His death won’t be remembered, his funeral won’t be grand.
They see him as a coward, as someone who ran.
But he’s at the prime of his youth,
Not a war fighting middle-aged man.
As he heard the click of the trigger,
With a tissue over his heart.
He remembered when his newly-wedded wife said:
“’Til death do us part”.
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This peom is about a woman in my life, who is suppose to be there for me but is not.
Dreams, desires, id and ego.
This poem is about our failure to feel fulfilled by our constant consumption of life.
Read it and find out.