Poems from spencmcintyre

see theres this thing this feeling that eats and eats and eats away at my brain and i feel guilty and cruel and wrong because thats what...
The world turns its back But the stars still shine When did we start hating All of man kind Wrong kind of skin Wrong kind of mind Wrong...
she silently stares at the monsters under her bed chin resting on the knees she has pulled to her chest, eyes as empty as the rhythmic...
crumbling walls in a deteriorated village the sentiment builds by the minute and every minute a new tower fumbles. All it would take for...
Their words, all their words were Satan Every thing a sin. Call mighty triumphs Did He give you sight? Or tell you only words were of use?...

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