‘And they lived happily ever after’
The author wrote
Scribbling ‘The End’
Right after
He then
Collected the sheets of paper
Covered in type-writer letter
Carrying a story of great delusion
Of love and happiness
And he stapled them together
Looked at the manuscript
His first and last novel
Facts twisted and distorted
Until all that remained were
Only the good
And not the truth
And he walked to the kitchen
Of his pol-athu pale
Rolled the paper
Of his story
Placed them neatly in the
Dara lipa
Lit them on fire
Boiled some water
Made some tea
Sipped it and pictured
What his life would be like
If there was a fairytale ending
Like his now burnt
Story did
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