Voices a poem By John McKinley Pride Jr

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I can hear it, these voices in my head. They seem close but I hear them far pounding, a grinding, and a tear ripping through my mind.

I try to forget these sights, but they have become mine, imbedded in my deepest soul thrashing my morality till I can no longer walk the talk that I speak to others.

My flesh speaking to my heart again saying in a whisper lie down and die, lay down and die weak child don’t even try just lie down and die.

By John M. Pride Jr.
©11/22/’05

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