Wake me up inside

One time I poured my heart out to someone

And they called it “poetic nonsense.”

I cried that night…

But tonight as I thought more about it, I thought,

“Wait so does this mean I’m some kind of poet?”

So I got up and started writing again.

Thank you for crushing the roses I offered you

But isn’t it funny how I still found so beautiful the petals under your shoe?


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