the magic of fireworks has faded
no longer does my chest feel impulse
and my body no longer shakes with
convictions
these blasts
have torn
my ribs apart
in past moments
left me stranded and in awe
the maturity I know wear as a veil
keeps childhood under lock and key
a mask of chasity is keeping me
this terrible syndrome
where I just cant seem to see
the light behind the gloom of these years
here's to growing older under
a bright moon
and a shrouded sun
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