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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

Ok, Ignore me


Tattered

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I get so worked up sometimes.

I can't really pin point why.

Maybe it's the lack of communication,

Or the distractions sitting by.

 

I have strong feelings of distain for you.

Only really once in a while.

I wonder if it's the way you play games,

Like trying to manipulate my mind.

 

This is like a silent scream.

I am crying deep, deep inside.

I am beyond the doubts and wondering,

Now I have fully given in to the bribe.

 

Maybe I am giving up.

Maybe I am doing what's right.

It's really hard to say how this saga ends,

How can one tell, when there is so little light?

 

You like to think you are the one

The one taking all the risk and changes.

I am foolishly biting my tonuge everyday

Hoping that I will have something good to say.

 

You sit there and play in your own little world

Avoiding this reality,

Why must you pretend this way?

How did I get here, what must I do?

Must I remain here, rotting away?

How can I break through to you?

I already know there is no way.

But still I insist on the torture of failure...

it's evident, it's futile, the outcome is immanent.

Somebody stab me...anything...could there BE anything to make this MORE painful?

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