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Playing Russian Roulette With A Shotgun
From his elusive dreams he woke
To the nightmare of dawn.
The heartless ticking of the clock
Mirrored in his beating pulse
Gave life undue continuance.
He saw her smile the other day,
Her shallow pupils flowing.
The heartless ticking of the clock
Would lead that smile away from him
In place of cold indifference.
A desperate search for a wavering voice
To break the endless silence
Of flatlines caught in the emptiest halls
And in the coldest of devices.
He wished that smile was only his
And sought by no one else,
But when he left and thought of her
She forgot him and smiled for
What occupied his space.
He supposed she thought of other things
When he wasn't there.
But when he left the plants to rot
And tore their roots from the loving soil
He recalled her lifeless face.
He knew that had he never spoke,
He never would have won.
He bet on all or nothing and
Nothing's odds were two to one.
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