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Sometimes the truth kills
Poetry or prose.
Surratt87

Mama

But why'd you leave

Leave these little hearts

Broken on the floor

Did you, did you

Really want so much more

Chasing paper dreams

And those fancy limousines

Packed up all our things

And scattered them like ashes

On a cold morning breeze

If I could give you

Just one more thing

Both a blessing and a hex

I'd show you how good we did

Without you

Our own success

I don't know where you are

And I don't really care

But you can just stay

Just. Stay. There.