Companion


I assume a mind,

I’m sure so kind,

mindfully see I’m

bled from inside.

I ponder pillows

of scents of rose

and I do try hope

my mind grows.

Though hurt so

I rise up I grow

but this life blows

by in chill snow.

I guess vitriol,

a vicious ritual,

would cry riddle

ill and so brittle.

In the mind dive

my friend survive

for I’m here alive;

let us grow, thrive.


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