This is my monologue.
Another lovesick poet, retreating forlorn to
The cavities of society, and the recesses of my mind,
Popping pills chased with whiskey and regret.
Blame it on love,
Blame it on hate.
I’ll shoulder it all with nostalgia, and shame.
Dear comrades, dear cronies,
Dear partners and chums,
Please clamp closed my coffer,
And confine my absconding sorrow.
Bemoan not my bereavement,
Live and love on.
There is paradise in this parting.
My final soliloquy, one last chance to shine,
Typically minstrel, I’ve wasted it on despair
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