Pain in my head, exploding by brains, Thoughts push at my cranium, do me insane. Those that tense up out, tear at my mind. Trying to incur reasoning for the s murder that had hit the fan. Claws of kind rake my head pinning my neck to a wall. Blur of vision, freight of heart is nauseating me. Light I feel, while the foulness rushes forth from under me. Kiss the dirt, drool a lot, thusly I realize of the pass fall. Pain strikes a hyphen at me drill at my bones. Want to sleep process death raped me in his folds. But tarry a lot he if it matters the most Moved I be to be cared for the hurt. What do they know that there is no cure. outgoing rubbed in; close the skin till scares leaves no note. surgical operation binds me back to be whole. But the shit is there palliate on the fan, nailed to my life. So suicide illustrious does not describe me acceptable at all.
Should I bet, to find another commission to waste me life for good. Or should I shoulder the annoyance and go forth. I like the poem a lot. It shows a lot of frustration and emotion. The title seems a bit cliche, unfortunately. If you wish to get a full essay, order it on our website:
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