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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
I don't know any more.

Submitted: April 16, 2011

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Submitted: April 16, 2011

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OH! Treacherous fiend, how you taunt me…
Mock me, tease me, and laugh if you must. Just let me be. 
 
 
It hasn’t but been a year since I’ve known the “I” I once was.
Like a descending bee into the flesh pits of life, I steadily lose my buzz.
 
 
How simply beautiful were the times that filled the yesteryear;
All recollections seem like distant stories of some novel, not of life’s smear. 
 
 
“Believe.” A simple word to utter, but to follow, how can it be so?
When enveloped in an existence that swallows one up, can I flow? 
 
 
Forget me, go on, and choose to never look back.
I alone am just another unlucky victim to minds black. 
 
 
Come on, reinvention, creation, powers all at my will. 

If only could the pages just become without white and fill. 


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