the day you get bored
Of questions asked, answers imposed
Of lies perfect, truth reticent
Of maiden try, ended in wry.
You've got to tell
the day you get tired
Of endless walks, meaningless talks
Of assumptions made, conclusions shaped
Of dreams crushed, decisions rushed.
You've got to tell
the day you want to bloom again
With a rejuvenated heart, an infant start
With no regrets, only intents
For finding hope that you lost.
You've got to YELL
A rare chance
No one will ask
Ever again
What you've got to tell.
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