

A feelingGreat clock strikes ten In a heavy rain I get hold of my pen To drain my pain.A feeling
Lonesome crow Yet hiding in the crowd My complaint as sinister As the cawing of the sniveller.
I run like the stream Away from my spring Then drift in this world Like the dead leaf fluttering.
Laughing at me Faceless beings Pushing me down Breaking me down
I'm wet – these raining tears won't stop pouring I'm cold – this blowing wind feels like a slap I starve – no love for me under this sky Don't bleed – the drops you lose, f


Kitty or the Free SpiritI may be a madwoman... a crazy girl. What's the point in reading a madwoman story, right? I'm no victim like Antoinette Cosway… nor am I more exotic than the little Jenny chick. Yet… there is a demon inside, yes, a demon that's burning me, and it's here everyday, every hour, every single second, it's in me… like this huge fire that was used to burn the witches back in the days. What's the point in reading a madwoman's story? I'd say you are already lost and can't follow this stream of consciousness, right? No point really. No more than when you try to understand Bertha's mind or Jenny's personality. Yet… some people got this demon insidKitty or the Free Spirit
Meno
deviant art. I'll be sure to post the other poem that I wrote for the talent show.
--
"Make a man a fire, he'll be warm for a day. Set a man on fire, and he'll be warm for the rest of his life."
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