Poetry · Writing

art of sharing

i am always on the next,

the next piece the next goal the next quest

it’s not that the roses aren’t beautiful but i don’t want to waste that second;

not chasing this dream,

a dream of sharing

this art,

a dream of waking up next to you every morning,

sharing eggs and toast

and if a rose bud cuts my finger on a tour of success

and i miss a single second with you-

sharing this art, sharing these eggs, sharing this bed-

i’ll burn every single of them down

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