check please

bleeding
for scraps
while others
vomit
to fanfare
and gratutious
applause

poetry is
loneliness
wrapped in
barb wire
and i am
pretty
talented at
screaming
alone

i will
never
amount to
anything
but moments
you can
never
get back

maybe that
is what the
sparrows sing
as they watch
a fool
wasting his life
for an art
he has no
gift for
just monotone
chirping
from the bottom
of his
emptied out
nonrecyclable
nonrefundable
charcoal soul

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