Today as I was cleaning out all the old paperwork, dusty books, clothes that no longer are in time of the fashion race, love, photographs of past memories. I found these old poems... how relevant they are:
I'm, tired of being the only one
with cut feet
excuse me whilst I drop broken glass
into the swimming pool
Think carefully before you stick you neck out
as I did
before someone lashed out with a cleaver
and scarred me for life
My legs are worn down, from walking in circles
so beware of what you wish for
when you ask for rest
it's not what it's cut out to be
Or think before you speak
on one small thing
You have my broken heart in your hands
I should say I have your balls in mine.... but!
I feel the blood dripping down my back
where the knife went in
after you stabbed me in the back
I trust you are looking over you shoulder
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