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My hands are soaked in blood
My conscience drenched in remorse
I don’t know whether they can see
I’ve murdered the child in me

It bled,it screamed
It wanted to be set free
Alas the prospect of his survival was dim
This cruel world had no place for him

I miss him sometimes
His innocence,his naivete,his blissful ignorance
I beseech him to come back to me
But without his reassuring presence,now all alone I shall be…


One Comment

  1. this one is a real gem.

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