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I burn.
Fire in me,
Burning.
Old scars torn open,
Made new
And new again.
Burning.
I weep with pain.
Want to smother it:
The pain.
Burning.
Blinded by pain.
Agony!
Light!
The fire dies.
Pain fades.
I am a phoenix
Made new in the flames.
Dusting the earth with ashes
Made from my scars.
-10 March, 1999
2 responses total.
This is the poem I promised. I just wrote it this second. Hope you like it. It's inspired by the same series of events as Jon's P.T.S.S. poem is. Comments?
Jeez, I wrote this thing 2 years ago.
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