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When I was a little girl
I let stories get to my head
When I was a little girl
I believed monsters lived under my bed
But growing up and getting older
Living life, being bolder
The monsters weren't in a place I could see
All the monsters lived inside of me
There was Hate, vicious and mean
There was Hopeless, who stole your dreams
There was Self-Hate, who painted crimson on your wrists
Then there was death, who checked the broken off his list
When I was a little girl
I looked under the bed out of fear
I'm older now
I check the mirror

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sadesdd said...
Mar. 13, 2013 at 9:58 am
I'm blown away by this poem. The rhyming and the darkness to it is amazing... Amazing.
TheBlackCrow901 replied...
Mar. 16, 2013 at 4:08 pm
thanks so much!
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