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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Philosophy · #1246691
im better now, its the writing born of pain.
just now, here breathing
the thought entered my head
my life is different
this isn't the way people live

looking at my life
thinking of the pain
the hurt, the strife
and all the times i said nothing-
tears fall silently in the rain

i held my head high
but not anymore--
its my turn to cry
to let go of the horror

let me scream,
let me yell
you have no understanding for me--
my personal hell

how he hurt me,
how he scarred me
how noone cared
how hes still laughing
smiling, hes still there

but noone will listen,
im not that important,
tomorrow we'll help her
tomorrow--tomorrow
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