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As I was twelve years old There were issues between my parents everywhere we’d go Growing apart after every word said Until the end of the marriage when the relationship went dead
Wow this poem is old, I was 12.... (2009)    Who asked for peace At 12:00 in the chi? Or in harlem New York by their mouth? Who asked for peace When the Klu Klux Klan cries?
My mother is weak And I cannot stand it She is feeble, stupid, and plain Who are you? And where is the woman that I once knew? You’re a weakling, darling A scaredy little ghost
I've gone through adequate measures to beat the monster that resides within me This thing lay secreted beneath the surface of my skin Readying to rupture out at any which moment
Happiness is the time between absolute life and absolute death
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