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by Katrina Boblina Jan 31, 2006 category : Miscellaneous / Misc. poems
*just started* Gods just an imitation Christ was never real. A man with no soul or faith in the wounds that would never heal. Born and growing old to believe in these lies Santa, god, and souls being sold. sitting alone in a House full of flies. My mothers age a lie my brothers secret lies I don't even know why I live in a house full of flies. Buzzing and singing their hurtful black lies I'll never know the meaning of this house full of flies.