A Broken Book, Things Mistook

I'll throw away why's for now, there are to many. I am here and speak still, against all will I have. My head scarred I don't know how. A lone life is what I face, you see because the stars I gazed upon glare down upon me. The light that softly envelopes the guise that ties darkness to sky. A moon that can't decide to stay in one place be it night or day. I've nothing to say, No
book with no front, Nor sturdy back. A spine fraid, and frail, Missing chapters. Pages and paper, I will not pay for anothers mistakes. I hear hatred in the middle of nowhere, Hearing my heart my mind's sigh. I've lost sight. Wicked elsewere placed inside. A book torn open eye am. What I see Is said. Like a pencil I'm lead.

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first attempts at poety, feedback please

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