How to be.

Drowning.

All sights.

Visions.

Lost.

By choosing.

But not by choice. 

“Why can’t every decision,

Be with such regard.”

Regard.

For one.

“But then my dearest,

Where would there be cause.”

For love.

Life.

And the ability.

To feed back.

Regurgitate.

Sick Pool.

Share it through.

“Then.

My dear.”

You’ll become the epitomy. 

Of you.

This time.

With such choice.  

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