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Blood pumping,
Eyes red.
Through anger,
Comes dread.

A choice,
Quite foul.
Torture,
Brings howl.

I can,
Just sit;
Try to,
Forget.

I can,
Let reign;
Inside,
me pain.

Either,
Way I;
Alone,
Will cry.

For what
A choice.
Silence
My voice.

Inside,
Turmoil;
Tries hard,
To foil,

My dreams,
And plans.
The flames,
It fans,

Burning,
Inside,
If try,
To hide.

But if,
Let loose.
Get I,
A noose,

Around,
My neck.
So let,
Me check.

Is life,
So sweet;
That pain,
We meet,

Head on,
And yet;
Nothing,
We get,

But more,
sweet pain.
Drives me,
Insane.

But when,
At last;
Look I,
At past.

Three fourths,
sorrow;
And same,
Morrow.

That friend,
Is life.
Striggle,
And strife.

So shall,
It be.
That's what,
Means free.

------
To live ones life free from the constraints of judgement is truely bliss.


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The following comments are for "A Choice"
by crackpotpoet





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