August 6th

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Personal trauma. A battle I could never win.

Submitted: May 17, 2014

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Submitted: May 17, 2014

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August 6th 2009


She watched her dignity shatter

Pleading for a broken clock to rewind

As if it would change the pace

As if it would even matter


Four seconds to get her on the floor

Watch the father of her siblings claiming her for more

His own little pocket whore

As the song on the radio sings

Of blood bliss and gore



Seven seconds for legs to break

While she pleads for deaths kiss

Here comes the pain she can't bare to take


God, did it really have to end like this?

Im sorry little girl, you were never told

There's no fighting with a fragile fist


Now hope lies on that floor

Covered in blood and hate

After a tortured hour more

The saddest part is

She calls this fate.


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