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What Have I Done?
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Depressed Poetry droplets of my life
spill out upon the floor
leaving traces of my existance
in puddles of red.
the pain escapes me
if only for a short time
my life feels normal
if only for this short time.
my memories fail me
lessening this pain
that is locked away inside of me.
I turn to you
and see your crying face.
Oh god, what have I done?
