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My home is a battle ground.
My parents fight,
And I take flight.
Where can peace be found?
I hide beneath my bed.
Tears are falling,
Death is calling.
Monsters voices in my head.
Blood runs down my wrist.
The knife's kiss.
It is dark bliss.
Another one off death's list.
- by hijo del muerto |
- Poetry And Lyrics
- | Submitted on 05/05/2009 |
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Comments (1 Comments)
- tjenator - 05/07/2009
- ummmmmm. okay first of all dont ever do suicide there is always someone to love you. second,m itis a good, if not scary poem, but dont ever take it literally, because too amany prople would be hurt by your pain. talk it out with your parents, i know verything will work out
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