Why waist time
on that sober feel
of sanity
Sweet time
has left a scar
I show all too often
Mixing your shadows
I make myself clear
Life so troubled
indeed
so save the moment
with a fucking bullet
I could care less
of it all
My cure
your sickness
a gift from hell
God's protocol broken
in a sea
of mixed blood
Now childhood dreams
roll down my face
dripping slowly
to the ground
wenelson
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