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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Death · #1684382
It's about a girl who murdered her family because she didn't know what a home really was
I looked on the grave
With the silver names embedded
And cried silently, the quite I dreaded
"This is your home,"
I remember it well
"This is your home"
Let it burn with me in hell

How I loathed that saying
Even to death
As my family screamed it in their last raspy breath
A home is not a home
If you are not wanted
So take my tears and my blood
As my soul is now haunted

I remember the screams
The blood and the saying, "everything is fine"
I remember the smells
And how you screamed, "you were never mine"

I remember the beatings
The ones I endured
I remember the hate
As the child whom you could not afford
A home is somewhere you call your own
Maybe I wouldn't have had to kill you if i known




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