Cancer of My Soul
Cancer of My Soul
By: M. Morton
A cigarette sits and turns to ash
As the disease of memory grows
I twist and turn as I feel each lash
It feasts upon my suffering
That voice, a constant muttering
Staining the me that no one else knows
No cure to this
That I can find
Just a bleeding wrist
And a slumber so deep
The promise of eternal sleep
Freedom for the first and only time
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