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Beating
Blood trickiling, pouring down my face.
Another humiliating moment of disgrace.
Lying in a corner filled with pain.
I feel nothing but totall shame.
I'm tired of being beaten cold,
by a world and love I feel so old.
I feel so lonley lying here,
my face is swollen from the beating and the tears.
It has to stop or I'll go mad,
the thought of which makes me very sad.
I love them so but it really hurts.
I think I must leave before I'm beat to eternal sleep.
poem
by
Michael McParland
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