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The stampede of hate

Poetry By: Chrysta
Poetry



They walk right past me,pushing and shoving,all is a huddled mass where no straggler is saved for pity.Just there,alone on the floor while my bones break under their feet.Soon,It will be too much.


Submitted:Jun 9, 2009    Reads: 80    Comments: 1    Likes: 0   


There is no joy,

In a world of liars,

And judging eyes.

There is just me,

and I.

If I had a voice,

I'd scream with hate.

But I will always be muffled:

By their laughter,

and their calls.

So,

I stay silent,

I stay in solitude,

Because this world has no place for me.





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