An Interview

If you asked me
Where lays my pride
I’d say in a grave
Next to my lies.
If you asked me
How were my days
I’d say nearly all
Were painfully dull.
If you asked me
Where it went wrong
I’d say that my fall
Began in my skull.
If you asked me
Where went my dreams
I’d say, with a breeze,
They were strangled by me.

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