In me exists.
Wounds, Which I utilize,
Mortality Expressed,
And then brutalized,
It's fatal, a fury,
Little known to man,
But still I tell the story,
As much I can,
I'll tell you what I know,
About these exit wounds,
I'm pressed, because,
I know that death is soon,
50-60 years,
Is the epectant rate,
Money for the tears,
Just to compensate,
So you're told,
It's okay, aide'll pay for it,
You see that it's fake,
But they still ignore it,
50-60 times,
YOu don't recognize?
What keeps you coming back,
Is those exit signs. |
Submission Name: Exits
