Irritations of a young poet

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Where do you go when you have nothing to hide?
Who do you see when you’re about to die?
In the dead end of the morning sky,
The only thing you hear is the
Whispers of lies
Lies
Lies
Lies
Today it was this
Tomorrow it will be
Different
The words that fly from the Witches mouth
Make me almost resistant
I’d like to hit them I’d love to scream
But really, nothing that you see
Is ever as it seems, because
Deep
Deep
Deep
Down I don’t have a prayer.
because them and their life.
I don’t really care,
They think of nothing but themselves
From noon to night
and by night fall they’ve messed up
Everything in site
You think I’m a Brat
You say i;m mean
But you haven’t seen half the Stuff I’ve seen!
They don’t give a dang bout nothing
Just what they can and can’t mess up
Because their the kind of person
WHO NEVER SHUTS THE heck UP!





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