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Crippled at best, or mainly cure that the meds were not fixing my body is sure.
Please take a reading on to the side of this wall in chalk and white lines converting disolve.
Figuring bliss was a perfect fit puzzle why all predetermined wavers let me be riddled with
Passion
Hatred
Justice
and Solitude.
No one is as fixed as me for no one can be the same
As crashing a course of a miscarriage was all that it took
to set flares among boundaries and even the Gods would not budge to a crown this gold.
most would cry Never!
or how ever the story goes
Give this to dirt across the land that
I'm not part of you, you aren't my hands
Sense slowly I'm drifting, slowly I'm me
Never, Oh never
Will I ever be clean.
- by February Trash |
- Poetry And Lyrics
- | Submitted on 03/21/2009 |
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- Title: Concious
- Artist: February Trash
- Description: Been out of poetry for a while. Just something I made up.
- Date: 03/21/2009
- Tags: concious
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