Part -1-
Remember remember, the 11th of September.
The day I lost my way to my self.
And the door to my heart got shut
Where the world turnd its back on me & my name got lost.
Call me V for vicious never for vagient
Ventana of virtual varitey of venerous veridicous virid virus eating me alive.
Don't blame me for being so vincular.
My violaceous heart may not be as dead as you think it is.
Part -2-
My heart is filled with virason like emotions, not with lust.
How dare you question me, & all I showed was the word ''friends''?
Judging me by your past, crushing my good intention into dust.
Justice, where are you from that word?
Wither you are next to me or miles over miles away, my friend.
Don't let your past fears ruin my present world.
The world does need a cure called ''LOVE'', not another wound.
Tags: poem
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