by Christopher Stone

Created on: May 01, 2010   Last Updated: May 02, 2010

I feel my past behind me, clawing at my spine

   but when I turn to face my foe, I see a narrow line

I do not see the wrongs I've done, or the many I have pained

   I do not see the silk of lives, I chose then to have stained

I turn again to forge ahead, pretending all is well

   though I know within my heart, I created my own hell

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