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Dec 2016
Tell me, my choice was not,
and never will be,
to hurt you.
I only hurt me.
You,
hold my hand.
Me,
gone with the wind, up the cliff, climbing that tree.
Help me.
I die , moonlight burns my bones.
Into ashes.
My soul sprinkled all over my bed sheets, i don't feel like getting up.
Oh, Sir, you have died.
A lot you gave me, do you see?
I am not what you left behind, I am nothing but a mere illusion of what I'm told to be.
I have to ask, will you be scared
of the monster,
life has turned me into?
By life, I mean,
people .
Will you all run away from the beast?
Will you stay until i eat what keeps you alive, and then leave?
Run.
Written by
Blendi Pajaziti
993
 
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