Because if It all happened to be a untrue, I am the victim. The vitim of a tastless joke. Not a net of lies, but more like a blanket stitched over centuries to comfort and to conceal. Then again I wonder if it would change a thing. for if life is a bed, I want to lie under the covers of Religion and lay my head on the pillows: Belief, Purpose and Promises of Eternity. My toes are warm and i am cozy And magical things called Love and Success fly around me like fairies bobbing up and down in the air, but at fast speeds when I try to catch them. And then when the hurt in my heart, my head and the sides of my tonge (where we taste bitter things) , overflow and tears start leaking from my eyes- ill let it flow and I'll say something hurtful to You and You will feel as though I am poking at you with a stick. 'Why? ' and 'How could you? ' Then I'll repent, say sorry, tell you that you cannot have taken what was never mine. And I'll ask you for forgiveness. And so I'd have better days.
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