Poems from IntricateContemplation

Watching stains on the sidewalk.. Listening to the birds talk, - Mind's Gone. No one with the words to say.. or listen to the words I say...
  If this is living, I'm not sure if I want to live.  If only I could move.. just get away, but I can only go where I am taken to. No one...
I started writing to express the hurt that was wrapped, twisted, and concocted inside of me. It seemed to be the only way that I could...
Deep inside is a tunnel of PRIDE, I'd usually walk alone - even my shadow would hide. Not concerned of what I did or what I said, If I was...

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