gold

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everyone has a mind
but only ours are broken ;
they always speak words
that are unspoken.

in the middle of the night
when the moon arrived,
the voices wake up
haunting our souls.

we still won't fight.
nobody's here tonight
to hold our tears
and warm our arms.

we will go down as golden dust
collecting memories of lost youth.
our souls might be old
but we're still made out of gold.

sad kids //poemsWhere stories live. Discover now