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Rated: E · Poetry · Philosophy · #349761
A short poem with a nice beat.
I cannot see,
I cannot taste,
I feel the world
grind brains to paste.

It cannot hear
my silent scream,
I feel the world
mash brains to cream.

Sometimes here,
I feel the sun,
I know the world
cares not for one.
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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/349761-Suffocate