Lil B here. It's not such a sunny day down in my lethal legal sphere where daggers are hidden, looks are deceiving, words are bent to the untruth, and expressions can hardly be deciphered. You think your life is a funfair circus? Wait till you shake a hand with invisible needles, brittle piecemeal alliances, and unrepentant bitchings which threaten to ruin the one's reputation.

Thursday, April 17, 2008

The Injured "It"

It stared ahead
Eyes bleary
Mind empty
Core bleeding.

They stab
Frustrate, and injure
They steal
Joy, Love and Happiness.

Depression, like a menacing fiend
Sipped in
Melancholy hovered above like a thuderous cloud
They stayed put
They refused to budge
They added weight to
The weightless it.

It refused to move
It refused to float.

It was so bashed up
By words and expectations.

It is not an object.
It is your soul.

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