Bruise

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Roses are black, Violets are blue, Like the hue of my skin Since I got stuck on you.   Your soul is still black, My heart is still blue, But I got away, I hope they do too.  
I should have seen the signs; I was so naive. There was no need to read between the lines; everything you said I believed. “Because I love you,” that’s what you said.
His knee looked as if someone painted blood on him, Gangly and nearly broken, Craig lifted his bad knee And started down the train tracks, trying to race Before his mother got home
My finger tips, cold Touch bare chest My heart beat, loud Frozen in time   Arms grabbed me, forcfully I had no choice I looked away, tears Blurred my vision  
I'm an odd one, Oh you know its true, A crude mix of happiness and some tainted blues,
Black, purple, and blue dents, keepers of the memories and events that orate a tale of the ego held within. Each contusion a badge of honor and strength–the true gold metals of life.
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