by J.J. Campbell
the final tears
of a dying soul
what outsiders
would call a
life well lived
but the regret
of the truth is
often too much
for even the
greatest
be it a gun
be it an overdose
be it an accident
attributed to
old age
the final days
will come upon
us like hell
breaking through
a calm night
like disease
spreading
among the
poor
there's always a
part of the story
they never told
you as a child
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