Untitled


Them who are
Who is
And who isn't
Stuck inside
This great big prison
Called life
Sharpen my knife
And be prepared
For them that strike
I wasn't ready
When you met me.
How much more sick
Can you make me?
I am now diseased
I am ill
There's no cure
No magic pill
That could heal
Me.
Who is me?
Who is that person
That I have turned to be
It's hard to see
I don't recognize my own reflection
That is the product of this infection.
Infected.
Rejected.
Rejection.

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