SlitA Poem by Molly
Cut to the quick, swift flick of the wrist then, off it goes, bringing woe, wet sorrows. So small, the beating, so fragile, yet fleeting. Thumping heart broken from lack of loving token. Touches unwanted but suitor undaunted brings pain unbelievable, leaving joy irretrievable. Running girl crying saw her soul fleeing, dying, pursued, just to save it from dark power that craves it. Nothing remaining to bury the ocean of stark, raving madness, and cursed, cold emotion that seeps closer daily, quietly flowing bringing the curses of fear and unknowing. © 2008 Molly
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Added on February 7, 2008AuthorMollyAboutI write to write. Not for you. Not even for me sometimes. Inspiration just hits me, and I'll write it down. Sometimes what I write concerns the present, people I know or things I've seen. And other t.. more..Writing
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