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Jan 2010
Fingers ****** digging deeper,
A razor lined ring upon her finger,
Blood from her hand starts to drip,
On the carpet red and thick,
A razor lined ring upon her finger,
Forever will that stained blood linger.

Blood is dripping down her wrist,
The only thing she knows wont twist,
Though pain and anguish make her die,
She still will think, “I’ll never cry”.

As she lies on cold hard floor,
Crimson blood from her body pour,
She dies in the way she lived,
She will hate, she’ll never forgive.

A ****** razor falls to the ground,
Without a heart will make no sound,
Cold, alone had nowhere to go,
Found in her blood drenched in the flow.

She lies in a grave that says, “She is now dead”,
She made cuts from razor for the tears she had shed.
Written by
Sam Guthrie
890
     Vladimir Ruduke and D Conors
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