deepundergroundpoetry.com
Memories ate me
Torturous bark
of misfortune
Hands like a mother
of an orphan
Roughly scaling
my disposition
Concealing the victim
of tenderness within
echoing visions
of days past
backbone of fear
the root of my mask
Armored from pain
of my bleeding eyes
soul buried so deep
cant hear its cries
Who am I
who have I become
feel sick in this skin
memory what have you done
Life absorbed
what was left of me
Who would I be now
If Memories
didn't have its way with me
of misfortune
Hands like a mother
of an orphan
Roughly scaling
my disposition
Concealing the victim
of tenderness within
echoing visions
of days past
backbone of fear
the root of my mask
Armored from pain
of my bleeding eyes
soul buried so deep
cant hear its cries
Who am I
who have I become
feel sick in this skin
memory what have you done
Life absorbed
what was left of me
Who would I be now
If Memories
didn't have its way with me
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