The End

 So we dillydally around these games

we both have played as the winners and losers

the thrill has ended now all is left

is the clawing hands of despair

the blank stare of  boredom

of dread of sadness and the mourning of loss

we know the words are empty and respoken

we know when the chaser becomes the belle and the belle the stalker

the dynamics change

oh little sad one, no matter what you say

or  how hard you try 

you are like Sisyphus trudging up the hill

pick up your broken heart and heal

till you are ready for another game 

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