Sour Voices

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is pretty rough on the emotions. Probably anybody who reads it will feel discomfort or pain of some sort. The moment i was in when i wrote this was pretty bad. Never the less it was how i was feeling, and had to express it. At least its genuine and from the heart.

Submitted: July 14, 2013

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Submitted: July 14, 2013

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I feel like my soul has a cold.

Everything is stuffed up, everything is off par.

My mind is like a cave, one way in no other way out,as the voices like bats batter my thoughts.

Sand falls like wind through an hour glass, but im so tired i cant make the image last.

Do i give up. Do i lay down my weapons now?. Life is to hard to grant me this request.

I feel like a coiled up bug. Sluggish inside and out.

I try to make sense to myself, but unjustifiable forces persecute my mind with swiftness,

and piercing hot irons.

Who will hear this cry. 

Who can understand.

When your own thoughts aren't your own, and every neighbors voice  is sour.

Who has no control, even the good heart?

No mental cognation seems impossible until life throws you down that dark, pitiless hole.


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