The Weightless Words

You go on promptly

You give no weight to these words

What are they to you than just

Meaningless letters shoved under the carpet

 

You go on promptly,

Your nights aren’t as long

Your soul isn’t as worn out

Your eyes aren’t as dry up

As these words struggle

To be found again

But it’s not like you to search

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You Are the Quiet Transition from July to November

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I'd Rather You Stormed Out