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A Third’s Spite

March 27, 2017

A hole in my hand, a spite’s decree.

Forsaken, God has left me.

The dark shadows loom under my eye.

My head, it aches for my brain is fried.

A piercing in my side

is just a reminder that it’s a ride.

Bloodshot eyes caught a glimpse

of a life and love to reminisce.

Now, the darkness enters my clear view.

Surrounds and encompasses¬†the world’s hue.

Horrors and crying, a world of torture.

A world away. My childhood’s departure.

Comprehension and contempt enters my soul.

For I was taken, a bitch, shoved into a hole.

Mind’s torture is my own humiliation.

One of self-important imitation.

The hate and greed corrupts my brain

One that I attempt to refrain,

but I’m human and I’m prone to fail.

I am human now. Hammer that nail.

From → Poems

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