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Sleight of Hand

Under the illusion
I was;
not a delusion
was my life.
From the wound of passion
I was born;
by the hearts of devotion
desirably conceived.

It was only a misapprehension
I thought;
yet buried without conception
was my living.
not destiny formulated as I am
but my father’s seed
became a complete sham
by perplexing and bewilderment.

From a very I young age
corrupted I’ve been
with the deadly virus of outrage,
utterly infected.
Times past still feeling the pains
by abuse and molestation
with all the sexual stains
I was disgraced.

If I am truly kind
I’ll forgive but not forget
poisoning my mind
they did 
A mind which couldn’t cope
went out of control;
there was no remedy to console
only alcohol an exception.

Battling hard but in vain
all my life I did;
trying frequently to abstain
 I did not.
If I died in the womb of passion
suffering I wouldn’t have
miscarried by compassion
justifiably I was.











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  1. Date: 7/22/2014 9:13:00 AM

    Another emotive poetic marvel my dear friend Alfred !

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