“When there’s misery in music they call it the blues, but when misery is in poetry it’s a rhyming painful muse. Funny thing about pain is usually there is no laughter, or happily ever after, just leaves you with a disaster. Time to get on with the bleeding, the scarring, looking for the healing. Be one with the suffering, eventually it leads to smiling then onto what the hell was I thinking. So I dug your grave today inside my heart, gave a sermon and said some prayers. No one else came, it was just you, me, your casket and headstone with your name. I’m going to miss you alot, even as time moves on your memory won’t be forgot. True love never dies, it just gets lost behind the eyes. Life won’t be the same, when all the reminders of you is everything.”

“Rinehart’s Poetry” by Ryan L. Rinehart

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