battle ground

I plant my feet slowly and reach out all around

Fingertips brushing up against the thoughts in my head

They seem to scream but my lips are bound

Shushing them, I see my mind was mislead


They're continually screaming that this is a paradise

But I know better now than I did before

None of these thoughts seem to be concise

Looking at the damage I'm realizing this is war


Scattered bloodshed and chaos runs rampant

My body is the battleground for all this waste

The blood pooling has long been stagnant

Most of the happiness has been erased


Holding bits and pieces together as tight as I can

Pretending if I hold tight enough I will put it back together

As each happy thought loses, I can see a decrease in my lifespan

Soon I will just give up and decide to take the white feather

This poem is about: 


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