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She writes a story of an empty promise A shallow dream Where a body lays sloppily covered with a mound of dirt Screaming for attention it never got within the existence of life Nobody seems to mind While the soul of the tormented cries selfishly over what was lost What was taken for granted Given up without a thought Now left to wallow in the winds No chance for tomorrow And nobody to blame but his own stupid choice To put a revolver in his mouth And press the button To an unforgivable sin An irreversible curse of self pity And the inability to feel the tickle of God's creatures ripping away what is left Of that hallow subsistence She writes a story of an empty promise Again.. and Again... With no chance for an end
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Sep 17, 2010
Sep 17, 2010 at 12:21 AM UTC
Death is the Most Permenant Form of a Single Life
She writes a story of an empty promise A shallow dream Where a body lays sloppily covered with a mound of dirt Screaming for attention it never got within the existence of life Nobody seems to mind While the soul of the tormented cries selfishly over what was lost What was taken for granted Given up without a thought Now left to wallow in the winds No chance for tomorrow And nobody to blame but his own stupid choice To put a revolver in his mouth And press the button To an unforgivable sin An irreversible curse of self pity And the inability to feel the tickle of God's creatures ripping away what is left Of that hallow subsistence She writes a story of an empty promise Again.. and Again... With no chance for an end
5/20/2009.
stiniebeanie
Written by
38/F/American
Sep 17, 2010
Sep 17, 2010 at 12:21 AM UTC
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