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Lost..

A needle in my arm.. How could this be, Oh that's right cause your dead to me. All the pain was it me or you, I have not the slightest clue, The games got old so so quick, Now without a needle I get so sick. You cut me so deep.. I can't take the pain, So a needle in my arm keeps me sane. The blood as its sucked inside, Then with a push, into my veins it collides, I'm Withered and dying, And cannot stop crying. I want so badly to just be gone, Will I reach tomorrow mornings dawn?
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Written by
john-gallagher
Irish
Published
May 10, 2016
Lines·Words
16·102
Permission

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