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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Emotional · #2019622
The story of my life. What am I?
My sleepless eye shows my soul,

Bloodshot, it stares at the street lit blinds,

From my bed I think on my life.

Do I deserve to see out this eye?

This eye whom my mother used and abandoned?

Does life deserve to get rid of me?

Or do I deserve to get rid of life?

In my empty eye is the black from the ashes.

These Ashes come from my burning rage

My rage and retribution burnt out my color,

The color placed by the same woman that abandoned it.

My brothers, my friends, they left me to die,

My family taken, torn, and shred,

I miss them so, who were cheated by this witch.

The woman who gave me life may take it back.

For life is not what I value,

But vengeance upon her head is what I need.

Upon my brother I want boulders.

In my arms I want my child,

I want a person to raise in love, not by scheme
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