•Seventy-Three•

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Like stain glass windows
My heart holds the design of random pieces that almost make it seem whole
On a sunny day my true colors shine
Tender shades of blue and purple
The paint of your choice
Recognizably done by your crafted stroke
You always hated those sunny days
Those pastel shadows crawling over you
Leaving a warm feeling
Not the ones you receive from a lover
The ones of a lover of cruelty
Has anyone ever taught you beating on glass can cause it to break?
I'm broken
After I cave in there will be nothing left to protect you from that on coming storm
There will be no more sunshine
I hope every shard of glass to try to pick up reminds your hands of the art they destroyed
I'll take my pastel hue
Keep on chasing the sun
Becoming the rainbow after the storm
Is the greatest battle have ever won

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