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A Selfish Poem
I am willing to admit that the older I get, the more it hurts.
If I do grow out of love one day, can I re-learn?
When I was younger, I was easier to talk with and love.
I hadn't seen as much, hadn't been ditched enough.
I hadn't been betrayed by the last person I thought was on my side.
I hadn't had the taste of almost losing my life.
But now, I know all that, so why do I still care?
Sometimes, I fear if I love again, it will still end with despair.
Blame won't fix me, that much is true.
Yet I still wonder, why me and not you?
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Ok, so I know this one can hit a ton of bricks even though it's short, and I apologize for that. I want the reader to know I am doing better, and I would like to know if they would like to read more of my pieces, which tend to have a lighter more melodic feel. Thank you!
-A grateful oni