Again. It’s 2 am, on my high sleeved table,
Alone I seat, gulping down on my glass.
When i tried to refill, my bottle was at bottom.
Then I realized I took a long thinking about you.

My heart has probably been silent,
Not because I abandoned you, for I can’t.
But from a distance, away from judgements,
I surveyed how you enjoyed your liberty.
Suddenly I felt a drop down, oh I was crying.

You run away from everything elders advised,
Your arms embraced all that have kept away.
You gave your intimacy to unstable travellers,
Aliens and strangers were apart of your circle,
Outlawed inspired you, and you trusted them.

But what is it rekindling fire for a night,
With the rung of the ladder towards tomorrow?
With all that talents in your hand,
How come you still touch dirty and mud?
I thought of going to sleep but i noticed that.

Your liver have a hard time cleaning alcohol,
Your poor lungs battled fumes of smokes,
Lots of lipids were stored in your veins,
Uncensored words added in your vocabulary,
And this were branded as kind of fun.

Knowing all of this, I still have a heart for you,
Your sights and your experience taught me,
You saved me a lot from my madness,
When I was unsecured you helped me,
Maybe it’s my time to pay back your kindness.

Now. it’s 4 am, on my high sleeved table,
Alone I seat, observing my emptied bottle,
By the moment you’ll be reading this.
Know that I’m ready to help you out.
Because it is only bent not broken.

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