Revolution

There are things that

they do not merely understand,

Words spoken out of frustration

which the heart is torn by;

Tears let gone through sorrow,

unably forgotten,

Good riddance to agony

of what lies beyond.

Then, words have been kept

and soon to be forgotten,

Torn heart through self-grief

has slowly been mended,

Damp of tears quietly dried

with quiescence;

Forgive and forget

for the new age of our welcome

So, to understand what we had not

from the start.

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