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This Person
Walls of reality
Bursting at the seams
Broken and demented
Torn and shattered dreams.
A foundation of virtue
A heart made of stone
Unspoken, unheard
Words ring with foreign tone.
The decorated inside
Of a broken heart
Thoughts left unsaid
Ripped and shredded apart.
Eyes that are blind
And very unwilling to see
Unfocused, unforgiving
This person who is me.
All poems Copyright © Jaime Cross. All rights reserved.
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