Fall Out

Some people do not come in your life

To become a part, a member of your tribe

Nor are there to make you learn to survive.

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Isn’t it weird to mourn the distance from people still alive,

Feeling hurt but grinning when the ones who stay the nearest

Call you weird and rude when you speak and don’t understand your strife,

Putting bars over the expression of your feelings, saying everyone’s trying their best?

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