These drugs only postpone the inevitable...
My hatred grows, daily...
I will break free eventually
These pills are the shackles...
Of my mind, but you cannot restrain...
That which expands, and changes form all the time
You should have ended my misery...
When you had the chance, but...
Instead you tried to fix, that...
Which i broke intentionally.
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Comments about this poem (Beyond Repair by Nihil Existentia )
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