An Unfinished Song
Its been more than half century.
I still can not see,
How you were of any benefit to me.
With your lies and enviousness.
With your hate and conceit.
Perhaps thats the reason,
I became a cooperative.
Always disliking to compete.
You wrote me in your broken tongue.
Your throat ceased; not another word rung.
Your self-centeredness led to my own insignificance.
I was left as an unfinished song,
That I've been trying to complete.
But your long subtle influence has remained
On, what seems, an unending feedback loop.
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