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A suitcase was left on my porch that was full of body parts.When I learned whose body it was, it really broke my heart.I burst into tears when I learned that it was my son.I hunted the killer down and shot him with my gun.
Le silence éternel C’est la mort On dit souvent sous ce ciel
Staple gun to my head Pin it closed the gaps of dread Leaving out the slips of blood Creeping forward pools of red   Wash my hands are never clean
Weeping Small watery beads fall like tiny diamonds. Glittering as the sunlight sprouts from their surfaces in prismatic tints.
They said she would stay, that she wouldn't feel a thing, it would be quiet and still, our goodbye's wouldn't matter because she'd never know, that they were said,
Lost in a dream of who I used to be Shuddering to think of what they see   Adrift in the ocean drowning in shame As waves of sorrow silence my name   My soul weathered by the guilty air
If heaven has a mailbox I would write a letter and this is what I would say.
In my time on this earth I have come across many magnificient things. However nothing has been quite as beautiful as a flower from long ago.
Stacy, I can still remember your gorgeous pearls, those devilish items revealed the greatest treasure for me. These riches could only be a girls. The pearls gave me a view into the sea,
I wonder if we wish upon a starfor things to be different from the way they areWould it erase what has originally been written in the stars?  
I saw this man alone in the brisk cold; He wore an eskimo hat to keep warm. A passing girl praised the hat, and behold- The man offered it to her, against norm.
You were there... When the sun didn't shine, And the rain fell like my tears. When the nights were plaugued Flooded with my fears. When my anxiety ruled my life, And living with depression was a fight.
While my heart does bleed For new life never born My mind does heed The pain of a mother torn The decision to forestall Life's seed to full bloom Is a powerful anguish of hellish gloom
What mind enlightened of God Could reconcile a forsaken entrustment... To guardian the yet unborn? What eye that sees by Light Could blind itself this darkest deed?
It roars in your ears Pounding in your heart Feeling miserable A cloud over your head Just wanting it to leave Wanting to fix things But you know you can't  There was nothing
Erik, I understand In dark slain Erik, I feel your pain Hold my broken soul Only you can know Erik, pass this life In darkness, I love you Ugly Erik, poor Erik
The blood drips down from the scar that was just created. The rush of pain and anxiety, no longer subdated. Her tears were dripping like soild rain, Dreaming of the day she could rid herself of the pain.
The paint on theses wall are starting to fade away. My everlasting grip won't always be here to stay. This faulting and destructive envy inside of this pain, Well slowly start to leak out of my hopeless brain.
I wrote a poem about a girl, And I though that I'd share it to the world. So That it would bring hope to the ones That are heart broken, And help them to find words that are soft spoken.
The pain is excruciating. 
 IT’S A girlThe three deadliest words in the world.So many keep disappearing just because of the flip of the coin.
I am a lady, Whose feet are
It isn't that you were forced to give up, but how easily you gave up.
Dark hair Frames her angular face Protruding cheekbones Paperwhite skin hiding lacy blue veins Dark eyes Follow me around the room Judging me Looking at me Wanting to be me
I could paint you a portrait. But I'd Rather hand you this photograph. I was only seventeen. She was my temptation On my heart you'll spot her autograph Decorated with Love and a lot of laughs
I love you dearly my brother Equal in the eyes of God, and of our mother. And yet I scorn and hate the little things that make you weak, and in a hundred ways
Sometimes I feel alone. I mean, I often am alone, but being alone Doesn’t require the feeling, does it? I sit in this room Letting myself become overwhelmed. I reminisce
Beautiful roses I can only pick one from the fertile field in which beauty is born All those roses, receive no different quantity of sunlight or attention I sniff each one Some smell better
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