Tuesday, 4 July 2017

No Sausages On Your Last Day

No sausages for you old friend, you're one step down the ladder. You don't share a farewell party, nor does anyone cook you any cake batter. The halls are empty now of all that would see you go, you poured your heart into this place, but that's something that the walls will never show. You take your petty trinkets and carry sadness in your tow, nothing is ever so hard as leaving when you don't want to go. Perhaps I'll see you round sometime though your future's bound to be brusque, I remember, I witnessed, I appreciated your efforts as you became a husk.

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