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Nap Let it go, let the tyrant have his way. No sense arguing the facts, no sense holding onto fairy tales. Wake up from the dream, without ever knowing love. Enjoy the misconceptions. Rely on jagged whispers. Release this tattered butterfly, and sleep another afternoon. |
Additional Notes:
poem written about depression(nap) settling in and how easy it is to not care and sleep the afternoons away when a love is lost.
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