The thoughts of an amateur poet.
The blurry landscape on a rainy day.
The outpourings of a broken-hearted songsmith.
The lukewarm water served with a straw.
What is it?
I can't tell
Like falling down a well
And sliding into hell
Is it me?
Or is it you?
That breaks this thing in two
That puts the past in view
Is it love?
Or is it lonliness?
It used to be our best
But now it's just indifference
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