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Nov 2010
Patience is not a virtue
When the world is pushing me into a vacuum
Who do I run to?
My future is doomed,
I slit my wrists and paint the room,
I should paint the sky instead,
It should be enough for the liters I had,
And with both hands I bled,
Yes, its true what you read,
Like winter miss me, when my green leaves are dead
DID YOU MISS ME?
Written by
Ricknight
745
 
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