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Hate Mime

Trapped inside your box Walls made of nothing more... Nothing more than invisible profession Soul tainted weak and sore.. drip.. Sorrow heart behind mask of paint Tears strolling down the cheeks Creating rivers of white pastel And tales never to speak.. drip........................... drip.. Rain beats and pours Heart's burn intense No plans to repent Of silent murder galore.. ...bang... Invisible voice from moving lips... What is your plea, mime? Pale skin and blank face Visible hate in your eyes... ...drip.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2006




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Book: Reflection on the Important Things