Life gets messed up
you try to inhale for those
who don't want to breathe anymore
attempt to resuscitate a jolt of happiness
into their suicidal tendencies
a decision to bow out of existence
is rarely altered let alone erased
sometimes you are left with minor chords
that make no sense in reflection of sadness
how easy words are lost in mortal haze
trodden into rusty coloured carpets
that have seen better days
the flute gathers dust
book remains unread
internal light dead
life gets messed up
when it's time
to breathe for yourself
Poetry©Words Among Trees
Image - free domain - Pixabay
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