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the writer

I stand frozen, my body wooden

in my mouth, the taste of lead and ashes

and though I speak, I make no sound

but my words, they stain the pages

 

and every word, scraped from my tongue

all black from years kept unspoken

but still I struggle to say it all

though I choke and my body lies broken

 

and when I’m done and my tale is told

would you know my hopes and sacrifices?

when all you’ll ever come to see

are just stains upon the pages

 

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Uploaded on December 5, 2012