knock knock
They dyed me with the color of failure,
and I died, but here I am: I survived.
No sorrow, no pain, no guilt, no laugh,
just wonder—what the fuck?
“What the fuck” is a coin; two sides it has,
habit makes it fun, not only sad.
But this time, when it ends, it’s sad.
If it’s not you, and it’s not me,
then who?
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