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Pauline Morris May 2016
Your soul's obscene
The worst I've seen
Your soul's to putrid
It's been polluted
Your soul's turned rancid
It's stagnant and placid

You are a travesty
An unforgivable tragedy
Stick that needle in your arm
Anything that harms
Pop those pills
You have no self will

Continue doing what you do
But you can count on this, I'm through
The smell of death surrounds you
Your choices are growing few
I'm tired of being on the wall, the fly
Just sitting here watching you die
Àŧùl Apr 2016
It teases me,
My destiny,
Giving few moments of happiness,
And then millennia of sorrow.

It challenges me,
My grievance,
Letting some smiles creep in here,
And then miles of loneliness.

But it must be lived on in hopes...
Of a better tomorrow,
Of a lesser lonely life,
Of a loving future wife,
Of a couple of cute kids,
Of a rainy day in togetherness,
Of a shinier life next rebirth.

But it sees me dream of my rebirth,
Another one in hopes of a better life,
And how my destiny mocks me,
I'm sick of its travesty.
My HP Poem #1065
©Atul Kaushal
Annabelle Lee Dec 2014
That girl sitting there
Such a beautiful tragedy
Her body her grave
Her mind is a travesty

— The End —