The Best; The Worst
Inspiration hits with a flash, stories written on the go. A rumble of laughter and the tale is heard only in echoes. The wind blows me in a new direction. Whom shall I visit next?
I did my best. I did my worst.
Somehow, these two were one.
"I'd never wish to hurt you, Dear,"
I call, and aim my gun.
Oh, can I even learn from this?
Or will it still recur?
I try to analyze my sins--
They scatter, melt, and blur.
Perhaps self-love can be the thing
That heals my mind enough
To curb my second-guessing ways...
But still, it will be rough,
As I was rough on you, my friend--
So weak! So mean and dull
Am I! I yearn to punish me--
Instead of you.
. . . . Fare well.
No prequels yet. Why not write one?
No sequels yet. Why not write one?
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