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Feb 12
Tuning my thoughts
To match my words

Tied into knots
Of broken lies

Defeating smile
The ten yard mark

Saw from a mile
All bite, no bark.

Bottled sadness
Soon to explode

Constant madness
A fading light

Dimming darkness,
That stole my fight

My will to live
My only right

It's been reversed
Flipped on its head

Reverse of what's not.
Wish I was dead.
Written by
Chris  18/M/Washington
     ---, Son of golden soil and Dina
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