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Literature Text
There's blood on the floor,
A cold hand still leaning on the closed door,
The echo of a painful shout still overcome,
Imprinted in the empty sight,
The image of a purpose that was too soon gone.
Tangled bloody hair,
Of a person that decided no more can bear,
Tears like crystals still resting on the dead face,
The soundtrack of a film,
The scream of lost innocence,
On a black and white screen.
Suppressed words that cleaved a heart,
Broken promises and lies,
One more soul tore apart,
A person drown in useless cries,
Bloody, bruised wrist,
The result of the decision - no more can go on like this.
A peaceful grin,
Of a person that in the ocean of despair couldn't anymore swim,
Is frozen and distorted,
A blade, a stain of blood,
Life away has faded.
Like in a dream,
I see the bruised, dead face,
I hear a scream,
On the floor I see a bloody trace,
Snippets of a jumble film.
Another person broke down,
Took away by the whirling waves of the suicide dream,
Another person decided this world is maybe too grim,
Another lost soul, a wasted life,
Ended by the corrupter blade of a knife…
A cold hand still leaning on the closed door,
The echo of a painful shout still overcome,
Imprinted in the empty sight,
The image of a purpose that was too soon gone.
Tangled bloody hair,
Of a person that decided no more can bear,
Tears like crystals still resting on the dead face,
The soundtrack of a film,
The scream of lost innocence,
On a black and white screen.
Suppressed words that cleaved a heart,
Broken promises and lies,
One more soul tore apart,
A person drown in useless cries,
Bloody, bruised wrist,
The result of the decision - no more can go on like this.
A peaceful grin,
Of a person that in the ocean of despair couldn't anymore swim,
Is frozen and distorted,
A blade, a stain of blood,
Life away has faded.
Like in a dream,
I see the bruised, dead face,
I hear a scream,
On the floor I see a bloody trace,
Snippets of a jumble film.
Another person broke down,
Took away by the whirling waves of the suicide dream,
Another person decided this world is maybe too grim,
Another lost soul, a wasted life,
Ended by the corrupter blade of a knife…
Literature
Tired.
I, am tired.
Tired of feeling.
Tired of all the hard work of healing.
Tired of failing.
Tired of falling.
Tired.
I am tired of things,
People, and notions.
Tired of people,
And tired of their motions.
Tired of their talk
Tired of their commotion.
Tired of everything
Inside and out
Tired of hating
Too tired to pout
I just wish,
Wish I could live,
Live underwater
Some place to forgive
Some place to wish
And wish I shall do
Wish to not be tired
Oh, please wish,
Come true.
Literature
Hate.
I hate myself.
I mean someone has to.
I look in the mirror and all I see,
Is someone ugly.
No matter how hard I try,
And no matter what I say or do,
I mess everything up.
Nothing goes right,
Everything goes wrong.
I can't do anything right.
I want to please everyone,
If I can't be happy then
I should at least make others happy.
I mess everything up.
I can't make anyone happy.
I hate myself.
So do me a favor,
And hate me too.
Because if you hate me,
Then I don't have to hate myself.
Literature
I tried
I tried to count my scars,
But I couldn't tell
Where one began
And another ended.
So I tried to count the cuts,
But I couldn't, because
Blood smeared across my skin,
Connecting them like a thin,
Red veil of pain.
And so I cried.
I cried a single tear, because
When I need to cry,
I can't.
Finally, I sat down,
And put pen to paper,
Or fingers to keys.
And tried to write my emotions.
But I couldn't, because
I don't know how to tell the world
What I feel like,
When I have no right.
I looked from the blood stained tissues,
Across my torn body,
Into my own eyes, reflected perfectly by the mirror before me.
Another tear was p
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Finally, after almost a month, I found again my inspiration and I wrote this poem. I hope is good
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U still got it!