bats books and biscuits chilling in my belfry overlook the town that caused all my misery rejection of my confession because i’m not pure plotting restitution ignoring the solution in which there is no pain
It’s not often that my own work makes me cry. I was reading a couple of bios about people that get into drugs and bad relationships; this poem was born from that. There are people in this world without hope. Let’s all remember our own blessed lives because they...
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