The Cide of grief
By GoldIWonder
Oh Mockery Of Fool Sliced Hands a smiths tool Now I have pleasure Feasted through my pain Do I want attention... Am I insane? Will you help me Strike for stroke Bloods come undone Free of a raging angel Why.. Why does it mock me? You call yourself suicidal If it were really meant to be You would be dead Where's your distant distraction? Your lack of attention Your need for attraction Your own denial to the belief Your tunneled vision And unclear decision? Wretched Frenzy Help to feed the need of mind Mind that is hungry Are you the answer Does it ponder Yes I wonderI wrote this about my friend Ben. Written April 13th, 2002 © on Apr 13 2002 12:40 AM PST 0 • 1
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"Oh Mockery Of Fool..."