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Glass Box

I cut but I heal I'm tired of "feels" I cling to the past While my future's revealed I cant close my eyes With my demons awake So I sleep with one open And one in my grave Its crazy I mean Just how fast time will fly Was never this different Was never this wild I'm use to the pain If it helps I'll regain All that was lost Overtime and in vain

Copyright © | Year Posted 2018




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Date: 4/8/2018 9:17:00 PM
They are ALL still around, Marc. I can tell by the rest of your poem, you know this in your heart.
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Date: 4/8/2018 9:13:00 PM
Oh, boy, here we go! Manic depression is what jumped into my mind, and I've been in manic mode since the sleep stopped.
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Book: Shattered Sighs