September 5, 2008
A poem can not explain it.
A play cannot potray it.
A writer cannot write it.

When I try to write it
everything goes numb
When I try to hide
it seems to easy

So when you try to tell me
to let this feeling go
I want to remind you
that my brain works slow

This feeling is so real
it kills me from inside
it makes me feel so weak
that I just want to cry

Its the feeling of regret
that keeps me up all night
I can't belive I made a mistake
that could cost you your life...

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