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The Gentle Creature - A poem by Violet

Updated on September 18, 2011

You were chosen from the cradle,

To be pure until the grave,

A face,Framed by beauty,

A mind, innocent and unpolluted,


No life of shame,No disgrace,

No mistakes,No regrets?
A choir of self loathers sing Rejoicing in your purity,

Existing, never living

Your empty glass is full
No life of shame,No disgrace,

No mistakes,No regrets?
You are used

You are broken

You are alone

Your glass is smashed

Your human side was never nurtured

But ignorance is bliss,

No regrets.

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