Blood wash pretty upon the floor here in silence
screams once more become a mute to their ears
my reason to this isnt very clear
but I crawl back to a friend I hold dear
Sunk beyond the needs of those which I serve
emotion have no time to find my worn out soul
yet is there a soul here to claim as mine
anything of which I redeem as mine
becomes a crime in there eyes
and I am lost upon the human race
sick of their face
sick of their smell
sick of caring for those which dont get it
why must I be here
question remain unanswered
answers with no question
I have fallen to this world
born to a place I dont belong to
© Copyright 2016 The Jester of Punishment. All rights reserved.
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