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My Weakness

By: Byron Quinn

Page 1, A poem of tortured memories

My Weakness

In our weakness we write down our dreams
Often simply an exercise designed to expel our real fears
The fears born out from our past
Obscene experiences
Deplorable in nature
Though forever vivid in detail

Why is it that the things we always hope to remember
The joys of our life
Fade in the memories eye
Whereas all we wish to forget
We can never escape
Haunting us in our dreams
Scarring the days of our future
A future forever tainted

It is said we are defined by the things we have done
Our experiences
Our environment
If this is true
I must always be the deserving whore
Raped for your pleasure
And this forever my hell

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