I get back up
I think my face is bleeding
where it hit
the tarmac of reality.
Merciless
it stares into me
saying
This is it!
Beautiful
it is so very simple
more free
more real and without pretence
tiring
once you've been gutted
and left exposed
We're in a church
He starts to cry
uncontrollably
All this wetness
from his eyes, his mouth,
his nose
and no tissues
and a plea
Please please tell me
you are an Angel
come to say
I can wake up now
and my Mum will be back?
Disturbing
is reality
sometimes.
Examine it closely
or walk right on
you still need to breathe
and it flows easy.
Sometimes.
You examined closely with accuracy and spell bounding melancholy... you have painted compassion like never before.
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