Un

I became erased
Not with one bold stroke
So as to make the act noteworthy
Breaking News they could not avoid

Harsh, insipid words or kindlessness 
Carried excuses for roaming eyes
Earth made each 
trip ’round the sun 
As I disappeared, you sat on your hands

I toil now, with Epic hopes
Weaved with the smallest stands of gold
To ultimately decide
Do you deserve me 

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