Rue
Rue

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carolinaliar
carolinaliarI write poetry.
Autoplay OFF  •  a year ago
I wrote this poem about a sad soul who has fucked up one too many times and now it is too late to fix the damage that has been done.

Rue

What good has wishing ever done for a soul so tainted?

I am strained,

And my roots are planted deep within the grounds that forever try to consume me.

I can foresee my death

and it is yet.

And it is unruly.

I want to break myself free,

make amends and tread slowly.

But it is too late.

I am corrupted.

tangled in my roots deep within the grounds that forever try to break through me.

Too weak.

Too gone.

Interlocked with my bones and

my body.

I will take my last breath.

It is low.

It is sorry.

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