It is beautiful when you start living a lie,
In the deepest niches, writhing you die.
When you smile and frolick and laugh,
And to yourself you can not but bluff.
When you hide and kill a part of your mind,
And those that you can not leave behind.
When you thrash around in your bed,
And all your lies get to your head.
When you are lonely, when you are lost,
And that is when I smile the most.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
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