If only I couldn't tell a dollar
from a hundred,
Your two cents
wouldn't have left me dead,
Enough to keep your mouth fed,
Buy your way out of the dark,
Enough to pay the pain to go away,
Coins inserted in the slot
you cut in your heart,
You're rich in your own sin,
Stealing what's left,
Leaving loved for dead,
Your money talks,
whispering voices conspiring in your head,
You try to walk,
And run towards the sun,
Every last shred
of money is evidence,
Blood soaked,
Married to your greeds needs.
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@candyland_massacre
16, open minded & in love with music, art, words, cartoons, horror, & randomness!
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