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By suicide I don't mean death
I let go of my final breath
To dream on to another place
Where noone knows my broken face
Where noone knows my crying eyes
Where noone knows my see-through lies
Where I don't smile because I must
Ashes to ashes and dust to dust

By suicide I don't mean pain
Jet black horses on a ghostly rein
By letting go of what you've done
I know the battle is almost won
Leave me now, I have to go
It's not what I feel, it's what I know
If you won't hold me, then say goodnight
I know I can still win this fight
©2004-2009 ~xangelle
:iconxangelle:

Author's Comments

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:iconrisquezebra:
interesting poem. it flows really well.

--
¤ jennifer ¤


deviant-artwork
:iconsynius:
It does indeed have flow, and its quite deep to my eyes

--
I speak in prose, and let him rymes make.
--Chaucer.
:iconxangelle:
thanks! its one of the few things i write that i actually feel, well, i kinda exaggerated, but yeah...
:iconsynius:
Hey, there is nothing wrong with a bit of exaggeration

--
I speak in prose, and let him rymes make.
--Chaucer.
:iconxangelle:
yup, its called poetic license for a reason!!
actually, where it says golden, its meant to say ghostly, my bad :p
:iconsynius:
one way or another it still works

--
I speak in prose, and let him rymes make.
--Chaucer.
:iconantiskeptic:
i am very very immpressed... suicidal poems at the best... not because im morbide... but u just get so much emotion out of the *claps* well done be proud \m/ ^_^ \m/

--
~* Blood lose: Effective pain relief *~

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October 26, 2004
710 bytes
195 KB
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