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A Disease Spreading



A Disease Spreading
By Pheonux on 02/10/2009
Viewed: 462
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I want to scream, words so sharp,
but I can't even manage a whimper.
I worry about the consequences, both con and pro.
So silent I sit, alone but for my thoughts.
I know the answers to questions, and I know the pieces to puzzles.
But where and what am I to do?
I can't have the cure, to the disease that plagues me.
And surely, I can't cut out, the part that hurts me.
Who am I to want? Who am I to beg for?
I'll leave things be, and settle with nothing,
and wonder if the disease will taint my being of whole,
or will it leave me be, except for that part.
I know no more than who I am. Unfortunately so.
I wish I knew more. But alas, I'll grow cold.
So let me go, let me go! I want to be free!
Oh well, says my demon, you belong to me.


-Poems are not just words written on papers. First, they were words, written in minds, and on hearts.-

© By Pheonux On 2/10/2009 6:22:47 PM
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