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"Purple Sun" by Anaelle

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Emotions high, feelings raw,
Eyes stinging from tears just shed.
Background noise from the TV,
Is the only other thing heard,
Other than the sounds of my whimpers,
Of frustration, hatred and tiredness.
Everything seems to get in my way,
Proventing me from living the way I want to.
Like a leaf being tossed around by the wind.
Direction, seldom the right direction,
Though lost if I go unaided,
But rarely happy if I do recieve help.
I've often questioned my own sanity,
At times like these.
When nothing seems right,
And the world is turning inside out.
Hell bubbling to the surface,
Heaven being buried underneath.
Or maybe it's already that way,
We're just conditioned to believe otherwise.
But I wouldn't know,
Not in a state of mind such as this.
When the sound of the traffic outside,
Feels like it's in my head,
And the blackness of the night,
Is too depressive even to look upon.
I really don't expect you to understand this.
Not you, with your continueing smiles,
and bright, happy eyes.
Not you, because you're not me,
And you don't think the way I do.



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Printed from www.DarkPoetry.com/dp/146/3169 on Wednesday December 03rd, 2008 02:13 AM

Certain elements © 1996-2008 Matthew Steven (matts.org)