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The Cure (for others pain)

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Created by kiss-me-better on Wednesday, April 30, 2008

They say I am the cure,
"for broken hearts" they explained.
They say I am so pure,
my lips remain unstained.

That dark thoughts in my head,
fly by and simply miss.
That my heart has never bled,
that I've never felt a kiss.

That those big dark eyes,
and those lips thin and shy.
Have never told lies,
have never had to cry.

They say that a lonely soul,
can sit with me for a while.
And as happiness takes it's toll, 
can be saved with my smile.

They say that my birth made the birds,
sing every morning out of pride
They say all these useless words,
but they don't know what's inside.

Memories and darkness strong,
rage stormy in my mind,
and I don't smile and move along,
I can't leave things behind.

Those lips clean and dry,
play with words like toys,
telling lies, 'till someone cries,
and kissing all the boys.

Every kiss makes the lie shake,
makes them a deeper black,
every night tortured awake,
left crying silent on my back. 

That mysterious glare I hold,
to make people think I'm alright,
is slowly running frozen cold,
like an approaching winter's night.

"They say that she's the cure,
for broken hearts." they say,
The night they found me on the floor,

the night I got away.
 

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