Jaded, disconnected eyes,
Scanning for material pleasure.
Misfits, telling only lies,
Pretending it'll get better.
...
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Cannot speak for I'm still screaming: well, you've done well with this curse through your poetry, where it belongs.
Poison: to cure my disease, I get off with the danger. Increase the morphine, ..God is really the saviour in such a situation. turn to God dear poet. God will give you the strength to conquer your negative thinking. always believe God loves you even when all in this world will reject you.. believe it simply and that is the best medicine my dear poet. please believe me. tony
Well articulated and nicely brought forth with clarity of thought and mind. An insightful work of art. Thanks for sharing, Bryony.