Inopportune
When is there ever a right time?
if there was, such words would cease to exist.
But how could a singular utterance ever suffice,
for your inopportune embarkment to the land of the missed.
Still unfinished in this world,
so who am I now, just a root from your callow stunted stem, Or am I on my own?
That is a matter I must condemn.
An orphan of this earth,
in which I now feel I don't belong.
Yet I mustn't put the onus on you,
as the dead can do no wrong.
Please tell me the way in which I live up to your honour.
Is that even something that is attainable, and soon?
I can't, I surrender, I wave my white flag at survival,
but this time, since I get to be with you it doesn't seem so inopportune.
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