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a stain on the shirt called life
a fiery rage fills the old woman's heart
she is blinded to her own selfish actions
she only knows comfort in psychotic ways
she is angry and spewing hurtful plays.
pushing and pulling herself through the ones
the ones she wickedly massacres and slays.
she is accustomed to what it feels so betrayed
the slews of memories piling up on
the very soul within she stays
she is growing...