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The Last Wordsmith
Poems
Sep 2015
Please
**** me, please, it hurts to think,
as into darkness, I slowly sink.
The fire burns, and the cuts, they sting,
I wish I couldn't, feel a thing.
Please let me go, please let me die,
I'll be forgotten, before the blood's dry
Written by
The Last Wordsmith
New Zealand
(New Zealand)
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Mysterious Aries
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