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A Person's Raging Wrath
Words can hurt
Make you feel like dirt
Being stepped on a thousands of times
Feeling as if this should be called crimes
The wrath of one makes me feel all alone
Feel like I'm at the bottom of a well made out of stone
Nobody wonders where I might be
Something is wrong can't they see?
I'm missing I'm missing
That someone shall find me is all I'm wishing
Then that day comes, a few heads I do see at the top of my prison
But the fact they aren't doing anything has risen
People gather around snickering at me
Not one even wondering how this came to be
Hours come and go as do the days
I think of being rescued in many different ways
Some days I see sun peeking through the top of the well
Other days the weather is as bad as the smell
While I sit I think and I think
Staring at the wall I don't even blink
How did I get down here? Do you really want to know?
It was the doing of a foe
A person's raging wrath
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