Wednesday, May 9, 2012

My Former Self (a poem)

I miss her, 
the one who knew it all,
who never had a doubt,
who always had a point to prove.


She might have been scared,
but she'd never tell,
the girl who always, always
got back on the horse that threw her.

Oh, I do miss her!
What a friendly illusion she was,
full of vim and vigor,

But life came crashing down,
crash after crash,
and then she saw
that it wasn't real, 
that she,
wasn't real.

And then she died,
and I realized,
she didn't know much
after all.

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