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All teenagers smoke.

Poetry By: SkarlettStone


Submitted:Jul 7, 2010    Reads: 39    Comments: 0    Likes: 1   

And the lowest form of life is me

I found this out in the beggining.

Later people said that I was wrong

Then left me forever as they walked away grinning.

When what is you is someone elses plaything

Its kinda hard to see,

While they sit and call you beautiful,

They dont mean a damn thing.

And how can I still be hopfull?

Why do I continue to sing?

To be honest Im not quite sure,

In the begining I was the lowest form of life

In the end

Who will I be?


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