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Worded River of Agony
Maybe I'm crazy
They are right; I'm physcotic.
Some sort of wackjob.
Dreaming of evil
Be it blood, death, or murder.
I am dangerous.
All I hurt is me.
I cry to release my hate.
Hate for me, or what?
Will I ever know?
Know how sick I really am?
Or should I stay blind?
What about others?
Can they see the crazy me?
Do they hate me too?
So many questions
I must answer in this life.
Will it end by knife...?
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