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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

A musing on the fear or thought we all get at some time or another.

Submitted: August 12, 2018

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Submitted: August 12, 2018



Here I am back on a familiar theme

This cycle of misery is not a reason to beam

In somethings I never had any faith

Lack of belief made me a wraith

Though I'm alive, fast ,and strong

No one here is singing my praises and songs

I could commit a few outstanding deeds

But from fading I could never be freed

Though it works two ways

If I screwed up sometime in the past it seems to stay

But whenever someone thinks my name

It seems like they think I should feel some shame

At some screw up not so long ago

Thinking God this man has got to go

Listing out all my fails

Whenever they bring up my deeds my praise bails

Going is that blood on your shirt?

Or Christ how many have you hurt?

Not saying these are all a good thing

But you weren't there when the call of duty decided to ring

Now alone Isit against a fading sun

Long night of many already begun

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