Unknown Promise

Born not of a washed tinted care,
but once could be a blush of life,
seemed to be shining a heal most wouldn’t understand,
though the thin lip that cries,
reveals much more on an open promise,
lacking the need to bleed for death,
having years worth of cake,
sickness from a bug or the unknown,
won’t ever break them into a sniffing mess,
though tender they may be in arms,
they are fighters than most give them credit for,
how that could be in the end there,
but for the more other try,
there can be that rhythm most wouldn’t dare,
as they lived in a way,
we couldn’t remember before,
and that is something that is not magic,
and even science can’t simply explain,
without relying what isn’t there.

 

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