We were…

We weren’t written in the stars
We were born as an idea
Written on the back of a receipt in Cupid’s pocket

We are the story that broke an age long writer’s block
We are the making of a rebellious mind

detesting easy roads and simple decisions

We are the color in a life full of grey areas

The beauty in distorted faith

We bleed dreams and curse irony

No more penny candy sweet love
We are the long afternoon nap after your grandmama’s feast

overindulgent but satisfying

We were drafted by arthritis ridden hands
Too proud to send us straight to “the cloud” 
We are a saga after its time

We are ridden with smudge marks and scratch outs
unedited and unsanctioned
We are are a broken piece of art
No one will appreciate
Until we turn to dust.

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