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He wanted to hold her hand
but his hands shook with
the memories of his childhood.
The musty room, clouded
with the sweet stink cigar smoke.
His father who stank of acrid alcohol
And a voice that rumbled like thunder.
The crack of the belt across his skin.

She wanted to hold his hand
but her hands shook with
the all too recent past.
The man who claimed to love her
but dragged her down the stairs by her hair
if she wouldn't lie with him or play housewife.
His bitter breath on her neck,
and the bruises he left on her skin.

Shaking hands, various pasts.
Maybe if both our hands shake,
We won't notice our own pain.
Roses are red,
Violets are blue.
I'm dying inside,
But it doesn't matter to you,I'm a nobody..
A suicidal.. self harming girl...,
In the confines of a hospital,
And they say that I'm dying...
And there's nothing they can do.
They will just let me suffer...,
In my own pain and guilt,
It's to late for anyone to save me...
My life is in the hands of the devil....,
Good bye cruel world!!!!
First poem hope u like  it. I edited it to make it longer.
love's orchestra
plays
in enduring hearts
the baton
of time
harmonizes
the two
in
a
symphony
of
accord
souls
remaining
steadfast
as
the
endearments
of
love
ever
last
from the toy box
                           a rattle twas taken
                                                         and twas most
                                                                ­                 vigorously shaken
though its noise
                         did goad the ears
                                                     Mr Jones defied
                                                                ­              the loud spears

for he knew
                 the efficacy of ear muffs
                                                         they'd screen out
                                                                                     those boisterous bluffs
Hold
On
Pain
Ends
The Color Morale
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