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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Death >> ID #1288735 |
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I load the gun with hatred of the things i fear,
and i pull the safety back... i find the barrel at my head, and soon the bullet leaves a bloody mess, of all the things i cannot erase from my past.....
© Copyright 2007 Cecilia Molone (UN: cecimolo16 at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved.
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