Thought

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  • Confusion

    Thought

    Sometimes I'm so drunk I can't even think...You got me so fucked up at times I can't even remember the days of the week... At times I want to punch stuff or even scream... Feels like you ripped my heart out and broke it in a million pieces... Hope you get what's coming to you so you can feel my pain... Hope everytime you close your eyes my face torture your thoughts... Hope everytime you dream it's something of me... Never felt this way but I hope your always unhappy and you realize the shambles you put my life in... All the times I think about the lies you beat in my head makes me want tojust throw you away...I cant stand you with everything I have and you still dont care

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    A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

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