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Discussion in 'Poet's Corner' started by Mya, Jan 25, 2007.

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  1. Mya

    Mya Well-Known Member

    I love him...
    He loves her,
    to him im a memory,
    somthing to shove in the past

    He drove me to pills,
    He drove me to drinking,
    Then leaving me here,
    After he said he loved me,
    how can he be so....
    Cold,

    I sit here,
    Alone..
    and comtemplate diferent forms of death,
    torcherous and painfull,
    slow,
    a sentence of death for the one who deserves pain the most,
    not me,
    not him,
    but her...

    And i watch her blood run down the street,
    All i can think is,
    "Why did he love her"
     
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