How hard is it,
Not to scream out loud,
'Get rid of this fucking pain, someone!'
Picturing yourself, so close to the edge,
Watch yourself jump, then rewind.
Bring hands back to face to stifle a cry
Born from a ravaged, 'played with' mind.
And, as the plains of hopelessness unfold,
And those around you share Jove's joke,
Set off, then, at dawn of rosy hue,
To find ... it ... it ... IT!!!
Maureen Walsh 17/01/2010 ©
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