The Game
A hollow heart,
that beats no mercy,
in all that is believed,
I become my breath.
That is the test,
to fail or win,
but when does the contest,
end or begin.
Respiring this chorus,
thats sang by regret,
simplified torture,
in my eyes that shake,
bleeding with tears,
how I hang my head with shame,
as I loose this game.
Copyright © Justin Robbins | Year Posted 2011
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