WiltA Poem by Wraith.
Grated my brain
Watched it litter like the horses neck Same old tunnels dig me out and drag me here again If mental pain was to translate on a physical scale severed my feet, now I must walk Prolong the pain with powdered conviction sick of forcing confidence with lifeless liqour sick dance of desperation but I'm not pleasant underneath seething rotten. © 2015 Wraith. |
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Added on May 12, 2015 Last Updated on May 12, 2015 AuthorWraith.warwickshire, United KingdomAbout“I have absolutely no pleasure in the stimulants in which I sometimes so madly indulge. It has not been in the pursuit of pleasure that I have periled life and reputation and reason. It has been.. more..Writing
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