You are the watcher, reading.
You move me to sing.
Your innocence is here, with my pen,
your senseless devotion was left here, too.
(A low sounding buzz.)
Your heart beats faster.
You get excited.
You understand just
as you’re hit; now fall.
You die, (boom, crack, as
you hit the ground)
you shouldn’t have been devoted
to the story.
You are wonderful.
Author notes
I like this one a bit. Poetry class.
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