The spiced rum I swallow does not hide my sorrow.
It seeps into my blood,
Like venom that bids me farewell to tomorrow.
It might pain you all to see me go,
And I would hate to see you follow.
I have been put here to spread a message that feeds off nothing but sorrow.
You would hate to see me fall, but love to witness it all.
I cannot blame you for what you want to see.
It is after all what I have been keeping in my sleeves.

by Michael Marino

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