For all the unfulfilling days yet to come

It scares me when I blink

On weekends, my curtains drawn

And a frown I wear on me like a fitting crown

Stealing my youth away

Stone cold and gone
When I open my curtains 

They’re blue

My friends and I sitting on chairs

A table separating us, few 

Want to be here, the rest want to know

Just how much they can swallow

Before they’re ready for days 

That are coming through
Is every pastoral dream a mirage?

And if I fail at it, while still

Rising like the tides in their eyes

Will I still remain large

Growing smaller and darker 

Inside me

There is some chance.

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