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rantipole
Poems
Jan 2015
final toll
there is a voice inside my head
that tells of dreams and tells of dread.
thoughts of peace and thoughts of war
in which I’m rattled to my core.
the pain’s not real, I tell myself,
but it feels as though I’m in poor health.
a broken heart is not to blame,
instead my own eternal shame.
my soul’s been turned into a puddle;
the hands that hold it turned to funnels.
I feel and watch the water pour,
accumulating on the floor.
and there I sit, and there I shake,
while all my walls begin to quake.
within I feel I am not whole.
my mind must pay the final toll.
#broken
#war
#heart
#pain
#dreams
#hands
#shame
#soul
#voice
#health
Written by
rantipole
Where it hurts
(Where it hurts)
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