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by Nomad
Rated: 18+ · Poetry · Dark · #2246118
A poem I wrote some time ago
In the forest it remains
Haunted by demons too stubborn to move on
They dwell in the rotten floorboards
And filthy rat-infested rooms
Which remain as a monument
To the life I've tried to leave in the past
Where my only friends were the ones
Who crawled in and out of the holes in the walls
Tiny bodies, tiny legs

Nothing has changed - it's all still there
Broken glass and broken dreams
Of a man too weak to live.

I felt the sting of his anger, anger at the world
Which gave him a life he never wanted in the first place
That anger manifested in wounds I still carry
Even though I escaped that 100-proof Hell
Years ago.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2246118-Years-Ago