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Stories
July 9, 2015
Tears did stream,
Now blood takes its place;
Paper cuts after words were
Thrown in my face.
We sit, simply waiting
As the time is ticking.
Here in the silence,
The pages are flicking.
I wanted your answers,
Not your abuse.
You're so hard to reach,
I guess what's the use?
We try to catch up;
Scribbling in rage.
We're flicking through stories,
Never on the same page.
© Anonymous
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