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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Death · #1973500
I don't really know how to describe this poem, it's dark to say the least.


The bruises and scars.
The wounds and marks.
Wounds of the flesh,
and wounds of sharks.

You told me no more,
you said you were done.
But truth be told,
You needed more fun.

You pulled out the board,
you pulled out the knife.
You had your fun,
but ruined my life.

I don't need you,
but you need me.
Your so wrapped in your game,
you didn't hear my plea.

I'm shattered and broken
upon the floor.
You said nothing at all,
just walked out the door.

I'm bruised and bloody
dieing alone.
If you hadn't done,
how much could I have grown?

You though it was fun,
it was just a game.
I was weak,
I am to blame.

My body is cold,
I can see the light.
I'm ashamed of my life,
that I couldn't fight.

If this were all different,
if this were not real.
Would I be happy,
how would it feel?

It's all over now,
I'm leaving this place.
But the last thing I'll see,
is your horrid face.

But I know I'll be happy,
wherever I go.
and know you must reap
all that you sow
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