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Poem #348

If pain was the flag you flew under
how do you turn to happiness and not lose
a part of yourself?

If the art of suffering in rhymes was your art
how do you decide to smile and not
kill the poet inside?

Both sides of your existence meet and it’s like
two volcanoes erupting at the same time.
You are just running from the lava, trying not to
turn to ash.

When heart and mind collide
how can you survive?

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