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Lost Soul .

Poetry By: LizLew
Poetry


.


Submitted:Aug 12, 2011    Reads: 23    Comments: 10    Likes: 2   


Hold the gun to my brain,
Plunge the bullet, it's a game.
Take a risk, run with fate,
Why live when you're full of hate?
I smile and pull the trigger,
There's only a click, sparking no fear.
I feel nothing, so why try?
I don't smile, and I won't cry.
Behind your lies,
I won't hide.
The gun gets passed, another round's begun,
I wait patiently for the gun.
Even if I die, what difference will there be?
No one will even miss me.
I'll meet death like an old friend,
We have history, this is just the end.
I pull the trigger again,
Participating in the game.
Play fate's hand at the dice,
Is it time to end my life?
I smile in sick glee,
As I feel the bullet enter me.
I fall to the floor on the edge of death,
Forgetting what you said.
You warned me against myself,
Well guess what? I'm not someone else.
I don't care what you have to say,
It had to end some day.
I close my eyes the final time,
Who cares about the Lost Soul of mine?





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