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Poetry

Have You Forgetten My Miseries? | Poem

Sometimes I’m forced to react

On dreadful feelings and not mine;

Without thinking I decide that should die,

And I will rejoice in that moment, I confess.

Honestly, I walk through fire and ice;

Once I was calm and loved, then

I’m destructive and flawed.

What’s my identity anymore, Deathra?

Am I the son, who spent years in dungeons?

Am I the man, who knows life is not without love?

Am I the writer, who writes that none reads?

Am I the lover, who lost everything at once?

Am I the human, who does not know what to feel?

Stop! Stop! I’m in pain…no way to relief,

May come the night I dreamed about

Where I will live once and die the another;

That’s what I am always, Borderline Shobo.

©sjwordsmith
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