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Falling With Style
cloud formed patterns
of faceless expression
dissapointment bred sorrow
disgust induced grief
bitter and angry at what ive become
perturbed at how far ive let myself fall
but cant the see the grace which with i lost my wings
cant they find pride in the fact that i trid
yet that shall never be enough
i will always be nothing
the bastard son of despair
silhouted across the sky
this self-destructive portrait of me
