I wonder...

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  • Confusion

    I wonder...

    I wonder most days why I haven't yet died,

    I wonder why my brain is so fried.

    I wonder how people don't see me and puke,

    I wonder if all good in my life is a fluke.

    I wonder how I'm not homeless and strung out on crack,

    I wonder who the hell is watching my back.

    I wonder where the hell my life will be led,

    I wonder why the hell my daddy is dead!

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    Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you or else it is nothing, an empty formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.

    Unknown Source

    Qsangel’s Poems (47)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    spaceman 0
    d~e~s~t~r~o~y
    ~e~d
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    ReStLeSs 0
    Rubble 0
    Weeping Soul 0
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    Nothing More 0
    The Bleeder 3
    My Heart 0
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    the candle 1
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    .
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    true self 0
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    hmmmmmmmmmmm 0
    I will 1
    Ominous me 2
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