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The Untitled Pain

Poetry By: Tyrone Slade

Untitled Pain.

Submitted:Apr 26, 2007    Reads: 138    Comments: 2    Likes: 1   

Fables woven,

with silent tear,

Hatred grafted,

within searing stares.

For what?

Lies leaking,

from rehearsed smiles,

building up into,

stinking piles.

For what?

Love tainted,

by selfishness,

Mutating into,

something I will not miss.

For what?

Your pain,

I must consider,

Your pain and my pain,

how do they differ?

I'm sorry,

I don't get the picture.


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