I am the goods.
I am the dead bark on a tree.
Sunken fools swarms around me.
Which I cannot multiply.
That which I found.
Unbearable to hide.
To the deepest shaft.
Not only caged by my mind.
It will shadow my shade to my grave.
It will bury me.
Infront of the rusted gates.
Leading to the legions.
Beneath the pits in hell.
I will sell.
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Comments about this poem (Damaged Good by Unic Cjonr )
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