The Cage - Poem by david roberts
What is this blood doing on my hands, what crimes have I committed, what sins have I done to be judged for, I stand here alone waiting for the sentence to be pass down. Please make the pain, the fears, the doubt, the loneliness, and the soreness to go away. I need to fill like I belong some were, instead of being an outcast, to be wanted for myself, but I don’t even know who that is, there is so many voice going thought my head, it’s not funny, so many bad memory that hold me like a caged bird. That I can’t seem to escape from my rusted and broken cage of thorns.
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