by Cumming

Created on: May 28, 2008

In the darkness of my solitude
A single room a single hour
I grow old of my surroundings
As they blend I look for new

The blade is not sharp
The blood is not red
The skin is not separated
It's all not enough

Their words are not worth it
As they should save their breath
But they persist

I tell them so they can help
But they all mean nothing
And the only ones who can
Don't even notice

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