my emo poem
it must be nice...knowing you're about to die
knowing that you're hanging by a limb
no one's there to watch you
except there are
hundreds of eyes everywhere
and as you fall becoming so close to death
knowing that even though you're a lost soul
that you have no life worth living
you might go to hell
or you might meet an angel
or even you yourself becoming one...
or....you could spend your days wrotting on this
forsaken planet watching as it slowly disintigrates
before your cold dead eyes
must be nice......
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writing and poetry
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