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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is about people who struggle with depression and anxiety. It is a written represention of how they feel.

Submitted: July 29, 2016

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Submitted: July 29, 2016



My life is merely scribbles on a page
Watching people who are living, breathing on a hopeless path
I silently let my thoughts swarm my tired mind
While the tell-tale words of destructive creatures caress the skin of an innocent being
Letting it be known that the possessive demons are delving into someone who can only be described as "pathetic", who holds back their emotions, who stops their speech from slurring as they try to control the outrageous way that their brain swirls
Their lies twist and turn, from "I'm fine" to "I'm just tired"
Until all their anger is completely locked up inside their head
So the only thing they can use to let out their frustration is a metal blade which they call "fury"
Whilst people are in the firing line, becoming victims of an uncontrollable epidemic
And the perpetrators hide behind fake innocence, so as to not get caught in the presence of forced cruelty upon another human being
With nobody recognising the pain that people suffer from daily
Screaming for the devilish assassins to "stop, just stop!"
Cruel words being used as whips to greedily diminish the expectations of the young 
With resentment flowing through the scars on their once clean palette 
And foul vocabulary coating each enforcer's tongue, language as sharp as a razor allowing the injured to become broken 
Their story ends here, with no more chapters to unfold
A dead end on a cobbled street
The victims have admitted defeat

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