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A rusty stain

The blood turned brown when it dried on the wall, and I still hear sounds when I walk down the halls. The house is haunted and I think you should know, that I don’t feel scared when I’m there all alone. You see, I have grown through the passing of time, and I’m still much stronger in my heart than my mind. I feel I’ll be fine, because I can’t help but dream, I’ve become almost used to the sound of the screams. I see finally, without the black veil, and I’ve chosen to face all my past memories. All the pain and deceit and the raw misery, knowing damn well, that it all made me me.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2017

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Date: 7/29/2017 10:42:00 AM
What a great poem. Welcome to poetry soup
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Tony Brady
Date: 7/29/2017 12:30:00 PM
Thanks very much! I'm glad to be here.