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The War Is On
The war is on, the battle is already won. With the words you speak cut right into me. Such a wicked little dagger. Now i shall draw with some blood. Paint a portrait, that describes the truth. Wrap it around your neck like knoose. Choking you from the insides. Building you up to tear your down. Drowning in mixed emotions. A bruised ego. Your too easy. There you go again making more assumptions with a flare. Can anyone taste the rumor in the air. Its only what you know. Not which way the wind blows. The affliction of your fiction does not leave a scar. It doesn't even come close to matching up to par. The secrets you keep will be released like a disease. Exposed, hey now where are your clothes? No more being shielded from it all. You shall stumble, trip and fall. Just one phone call. Everything stolen from right under your feet. Please don't make me. I would rather leave things be. I don't want to put anyone in agony. I take no pleasure in this. Just leave me alone or the war is on.
poem
by
Ace Of Black Hearts
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