crisisI can’t leave you in these trenches alone.

Shoulder to shoulder, cheek to cheek as one we shall be.

Resemblance of me when I was who I use to be.

Identity crisis that I can’t seem to identify with.

In a empty dark room with busted lights I plastered pictures of us on the walls.

I passed out cold in that empty dark room, before I knew it the yellow beams from the sun broke through to wake me.

As I wiped my eyes and stretched to finally see what was plastered everywhere it was only I in every picture I guess the new me went missing. -HonestlyFrank


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