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Discussion in 'Poet's Corner' started by Asylum Project, Mar 31, 2010.

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  1. Asylum Project

    Asylum Project Well-Known Member

    beyond any doubt, I have nothing figured out, my friends I'm without.
    You can't help but feel so alone, when your friends are dying in a combat zone.
    Sometimes I feel like this is it, makes me fucking sick, to think I need to give up and quit.
    Too much death, running out of breath, this city put to death, I need to take a breath.
    Running out of air in this government social affair. Give me a gun, strike one then I'm done.
    I see the truth, I see the lies, I see the world and it's demise. I wish people could see what I see,
    feel what I feel, so people could feel what I see.
    Then you know what it's like to be me
     
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