What I Am

July 10, 2009
The cut that hurts
The blood thats red
The pain that kills
Should I play dead
The wall thats mine
The clothes I wear
The people outside
Are there to stare
At night I come out
Silently without a sound
I see below are words
Pasted on the ground
They won't come off
Permananaent on the cement
Just like I am on the ground
Useless and bent

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