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Nov 2018
Sweat drips on the tile,
I'm shaking again.
My motives are pointless,
day in, day out.
I can't write,
from all the thoughts in my head.
One hand remains motionless,
the other stops the crowd.
I know I'm hopeless,
A loner in conclusion.
I disclosed my chances,
I cannot recover.
Recover from illness,
or the lack of illusions?
I wanna watch their dances,
To know what it uncovers.
I'm sick in the head,
too ill for the world.
My foes hit a nerve,
my wits transfer evil.
That's why I stop thinking,
the Red Raiders are
invading a vein,
cutting to a deep heart-
All feedback is welcome and appreciated!
Carson Alexander Defelice
Written by
Carson Alexander Defelice  16/M/FL
(16/M/FL)   
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