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A Poem by childofthedecay

 hate myself so how could I expect

another to desire that which I reject

a blemish I am

even needles won't touch my skin

As I kiss my own lips with gin

and sink softly into a nightmare's lullaby

Someone carve my mind with a razor

I swear I wouldn't place blame on ya

death is what I am worth

and I am worth my weight in fool's gold

 

© 2008 childofthedecay


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Added on February 28, 2008

Author

childofthedecay
childofthedecay

Traveler



About
36 year old Male. more..

Writing