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Wars Being Waged In My Head
The black death has got too me.
Shoot me full of pain killers because of such a simple gash.
Such aghast.
I think way to fast.
My decisions aren't so well thought out.
There more of a slip a tongue.
I accidentally say what should be played.
This is my life.
And its in such a disarray.
It's like a chess board with none of the pieces in there right places.
Shuffle them up.
Another hiccup, wars are being waged in my head.
Some days I want to listen to whats being said.
But alas I resist the temptation, at least till the dust settles.
The coffee in the kettle is always best served black.
Do I lack the proper tact.
Is it a wait and see game?
I wish I could forget all the names.
Whose really to blame?
I got it pushed upon me, don't you see.
I guess you cant win when the shades are too black.
I think its time to write a new contract.
poem
by
Ace Of Black Hearts
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