Monday, August 24, 2015

Unstatic poetic?

They mistook me,
For being poetic,
When nothing,
About me was poetic,
The pain I bled,
Was dark red,
Never black,
I wasn't ever poetic,
Purely hurt,
And pure deated,
Came out my mouth,
Rolling like poison,
From my tongue,
Yet net poetry,
Poetry doesn't Sting,
It steals your heart,
Never lets go,
My words didn't,
I am not poetic,
Just hurt,
Thats a difference,
Black is poetic,
I am merely blue.

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