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Make Up

November 28, 2018

I make up nothing

For what I lack

In personality



Where that should have stopped




There are no “should’s”

Things are such as they are



Anger brooding

Behind a kind mask

That falls off

Oft more

Often than not

Just a cog

In the wheel

Of a machine

Grinding to a halt

Screws loose

Wheels off

Oil’s burnt

Pistons shattered

Stack blown

That seems

To be

My makeup

From → dark, random

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