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Rated: E · Poetry · Other · #1952745
a poem about pain
Scars on a Wrist
Pain is red like the flames of fire.
It feels like a million needles
jabbing into my heart.

It sounds like a million hollering
infants.
It tastes like snake venom in my
mouth.

It smells like the paper mill
on an old cemetery ground.
It looks like scars on a wrist
that never fade away…
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