Lost, Alone, and Forgotten

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I talk to the boy
with the cocky grin,
but instead of a smile
there's a whisky on the rocks.
And he's crying,
all alone.

The girl with the blonde locks
is gone,
nowhere to be found,
having left—
abandoned her love—
not staying for the round.

But the girl with no heart
is broken:
unfixable,
catatonic,
silent,
dying.

A mad girl screams and cries,
her tears tracing threefold
down her cheeks:
blooming red
for the blood long forgotten,
the blood soon to be lost

A wolf in man's skin sits mutely,
lost for words,
lost of a queen,
freed of his country,
freed of his friend—
forgotten by his savior

Fire and fire
burns just as bright,
but the silence of sadness
is lost to the night.
And the girl of red
is now a girl of blue.

But the stoic man
shows no care—
aside from the tear
that comes from nowhere.
The loss that destroys
and a friend left behind.

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