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By Jack Joseph Smith
The Loss of Quest
I could care less about the sunlight
And the same about the dawn
I know it is not right
Yet nothing better than gone
I can not do anything I want,.
and either can you
Walking away in the night;
alone in the sunlight
Creese your soul and fold it,
from beginning to end
You make me quit to speak,
though my gift is rhyme
Guilt and fire turn on themselves,
but then again,
watch what happens when they don't