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Nov 2017
Im scarred with pens and knives
Deeply wounding my life
Before ending a dive
Counting thoughts one to five

A nice winter weather
With Wrists covered with scratch
Hiding with a sweater
Then a tear after a punch

Broken bones of lovely skins
A touch of silver ever since
Felt like fleeing under the sky
It felt like done after a sigh

Then a splat in a concrete ground
All scattered but not my mind
This is the mistake they all regret
That mistake... they didnt listen.
Lonely Poet
Written by
Lonely Poet
257
     --- and Keith Wilson
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