365 Days of Poetry: Day One-Hundred and Forty-Five

come clean.
or you will die.
I know you have.
this pain inside.
but please come clean.
you’re going to die.

I want to call your mother.
I can’t come get you now.
I wish there was something real I could do.
but I can’t make a man of you.

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About June Faramore

Writer of fantasy, mainstream, and young adult fiction. Poet and sketcher. Mother. I read a lot and love cheese. Guitar playing singer-songwriter. I also enjoy stepping on the cracks in the sidewalk. View all posts by June Faramore

2 responses to “365 Days of Poetry: Day One-Hundred and Forty-Five

this side, that side

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