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Poetry
Top voted Poetry
#33771voted by our readers
By Left-For-Dead BRONZE
Whitehall, Montana
It wells up inside me. The pain is painful. But I got use to it. I try to hide it. But this far, I haven’t done well. It comes out as words. Or feelings, or something else....
Whitehall, Montana
It wells up inside me. The pain is painful. But I got use to it. I try to hide it. But this far, I haven’t done well. It comes out as words. Or feelings, or something else....