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Chains (A Twisted Sonnet)

If there’s one thing I hold dear,
And it cannot be you,
And if it isn’t God, (well then,)
What could possibly be true?
The tremolo note doth fade,
But my pain still remains.
We throw signals around like
Messages on paper planes.
I know it’s childish,
But we forget we’re children.
This is not black and white,
With shades of grey we’re filled in.
I think I need a change,
But I can’t escape your chains.

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