There is an art to pain

why do I feel so much?
care so much?
so in touch?
“nice guys” finish last
your kindness was a thing of the past
I wish those old feelings would last
the future, so daunting
my past so haunting
leaving, and you’re flaunting
will you miss me, will you care?
are the feelings even there?
do you ever feel despair?
does your humour hide the truth?
my humour keeps my youth.
words you misuse
tongue twister for the blues

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