Poetry

G a m e O v e r

You pull apart the final wilted petal

Dropping all that is left carelessly to the ground.

It told you what I always tried to say,

But you had to tear it from its life source to believe.

 

Now it’s finally over,

I can let go of the rope that tore my palms

In the child’s game of tug of war

That reduced you to a tantrum throwing toddler.

 

Now you finally know,

The fantasy in your head has been pulled into reality.

We are not kids playing games anymore,

We are not anything anymore.

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