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Sorrow
Sorrow comes to me like a cold, dark wind.
It empties me of all my sins, Freezing my heart to ice.
Darkness seeps into me like poison, and shows on the outside who I am.
Pushing everyone away
Keeping to myself
Quiet, yet screaming
No one hears me, no one listens to all my pain, quiet on the outside, screaming on the inside.
I look outside to the sleeping world
And listens to the dead silence that follows close at hand.
I will forever be alone on the inside i will forever be screaming in my pain
until someone listens to me.
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This article has 2 comments.
In the poem, you speak from deep down, but in your story, everything is on the surface. You aren't feeling the writing. I would suggest writing more poetry to get what I mean, and then trying to put that feeling into your fiction. I believe in you!