Dark and Evil Poetry

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The sun sets in the west,

It is time for us to rest

It is only in our dreams,

Where we try our best.

The sun is a clock,

It determines when we stop,

Some are early in the day,

Some make it far,

And end with things to say.

As we drift off to sleep,

Reality becomes only a memory,

For the past is behind,

All of it is in your mind.

As they say the words,

That make us hurt,

It’s buried in our shame

Making us go insane.

As the days go on,

They repeat the song,

That’s stuck in our brains,

That song is called pain.

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