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Rated: · Prose · Experience · #977879
a poem i wrote about my mom one time, i should have never written it though
I stare intently as the world around her shatters. My mother's impertanence drives me insane. I hate her. So obsessive towards me, so rediculous. She is a lost soul, trapped in her longing to be happy. Her years here on earth have torn her apart form so many broken promises and missed opportunities. With her she brings bad carma everywhere she goes, she brings inner agony which slowly eats away at her will to live. Unlived dreams, unfulfilled prophecies. She is ruined. She may still be alive, but deep inside she is already dead.
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