Tuesday, October 7, 2014

Left Unsaid

How could I know just what it meant?
My dreams! My dreams! Were never what they seemed.
How could you steal what I had lent?
My themes! My themes! Were whispers in my head.
How could I stop my quick descent?
My seams! My seams! Were torn and unredeemed.
How could I take such deep torment?
My screams! My screams! Were better left unsaid.

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