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My head is twirling in its rampageous state, Trampling all the thoughts I want to hold to, Making the burn of lonely feeling rise, Forcing the droplets to seep from my brown eyes, That salty sting remains on the lash, As a reminder of the truth, There’s no escape, From the hunting and haunting, like a **** Crushing the grape, the seed so pure, And making the rampage run forever, Like the gravy rolling on a plate.
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Aug 28, 2012
Aug 28, 2012 at 12:06 PM UTC
Rampage
My head is twirling in its rampageous state, Trampling all the thoughts I want to hold to, Making the burn of lonely feeling rise, Forcing the droplets to seep from my brown eyes, That salty sting remains on the lash, As a reminder of the truth, There’s no escape, From the hunting and haunting, like a **** Crushing the grape, the seed so pure, And making the rampage run forever, Like the gravy rolling on a plate.
written in 2010
simon-clark
Written by
Aug 28, 2012
Aug 28, 2012 at 12:06 PM UTC
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