The lives of people dying,
The death of people living,
Are nevertheless better,
Than the lies that live inside.
Not one person,
not one living creature,
can hold the pain they have,
for such a short time,
The world will spin,
each time anew is born,
but yet,
each time you take a breath,
You die even more inside,
The way you fall,
and scrape your knee,
ist the way people really,
feel inside,
Everyday it hurts us more,
Everyday it turns toward me,
The pain i hold inside,
The memories i see each day,
Are enough to kill at once,
But instead it kills me everyday,
My life is like an ordinary,
Simple, careless, and free
At least thats what you think,
My cheerful self is like makeup,
It hides the true complection,
The true feelings,
The true me.
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