A trauma related thought.
A body found in pain.
A mind reeling in torture,
a soul without a chance.
A way to start a dance,
a direction of a trance,
twirling inside lurid tales,
of retching wicked scenes.
I do not see the meanness,
I can not tell the smell,
all I know, is what I tow.
It weighs me with the dough.
Never does pain rise,
it hurts me side by side.
Lost within the dreaded sin,
there seems to be no win.
Dropping like a sail,
increase the speeding rail,
toot your horn and don't adorn.
I'll be right by your side.
K.A.P.
6/23/2009
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