Pain

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic


To stare into your eyes lost Shaking my head, I know it’s not right. I can’t love or feel for you the pain Is too deep my heart won’t fight. I call you poison better yet dynamite Because loving you
yes you can’t and won't ever be right I’m twisted and wrong my words don’t ever seem to get a long. Passion creeps in when you pass By my scene it’s that glare So wicked so damn mean I can’t quite
compose myself I fight for what little is left. As you prance away with my self respect my dignity Dropping to my knees in hopeless Whisper that a God above hears my soft-spoken plea that my yes My
sanity will return to me. Falling forward in a hopeless collapse for the words spoken only Boomerang swiftly back I’ve been wounded knocked down gasping breaths barely escaping me The pain the hurt
I am but a wounded tragedy I scramble to my feet as this crooked world approaches. For I know the fate of the weak Just more food for the roaches.

Submitted: July 02, 2018

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Submitted: July 02, 2018

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To stare into your eyes lost 

Shaking my head, I know it’s not right.
I can’t love or feel for you the pain 
Is too deep my heart won’t fight. 
I call you poison better yet dynamite 
Because loving you yes you can’t 
and won't ever be right 
I’m twisted and wrong my words don’t 
ever seem to get a long. 
Passion creeps in when you pass 
By my scene it’s that glare 
So wicked so damn mean 
I can’t quite compose myself 
I fight for what little is left. 
As you prance away with 
my self respect my dignity 
Dropping to my knees in hopeless 
Whisper that a God above hears 
my soft-spoken plea that my yes 
My sanity will return to me. 
Falling forward in a hopeless collapse 
for the words spoken only 
Boomerang swiftly back 
I’ve been wounded knocked down 
gasping breaths barely escaping me
The pain the hurt I am but 
a wounded tragedy
I scramble to my feet 
as this crooked world approaches.
For I know the fate of the weak 
Just more food for the roaches.


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