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 HOME OF THE FLOWING PEN
 
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Everybody hurts, they say
Lord, haven't I done my time?
When will this sentence be over
Why must I still pay for my crime

Why was I given this illness
It eats away at my very soul
Why must my days be like this?
Emotions so out of control

Why can't I simply stop caring
Lose every thought in my head..
Instead of pain, and the anguish
I swear that I'd rather be dead...

~THE FLOWING PEN~
4-27-07



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