Incohearent (an old poem I found written in 00')
Too many thoughts
All at once clouding
My brain
The self seems
Lost
Captured by
The enemy
Stuck in one
Endless cycle
Too strong to
Be broken
There is a
Cry from inside
Yet, no one
Can hear
Pain takes
Many forms
Mimicing your
Every move
Infesting like
A disease
Killing slowly
Hear my cry!!!
Give my life back
Before it is gone
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Comments
(One question--in last line do you mean before "if" is gone --as in before all possibility is gone? Or did you mean "it"? ) Either way would work. K.