I don't mean it when i say the things i do
It's in the words of my pen that speak the truth
What i feel and what i think stays trapped in my head
Only to be released within the pages of ink
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We build ourselves walls to block out pain and turn our eyes downward, blind again.....but inside we know exactly what we are running away from....or running to....Again, I applaud your honesty that pours from your pen. PEACE
Spoken words can rarely express as fully writing. Writing requires forethought and therefore often filters out those false accuracies your poem mentions