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Heartbreak Doll

I caused my own demise
i'm not good enough
i fall for all the lies

i lie to myself
that i am alive
not an empty doll on a shelf

empty and lost
dwelling in misery
my soul covered in frost

i got no blood left
i want to be loved
i want to breathe

but the dead don't need air
the dead don't feel
the dead don't care

but i am a tortured soul
theif
it was my heart you stole

A broken doll
sitting on a wall

bruised and battered
her dress torn and tatterd

all she wanted is love
but she wasn't good enough

now this doll
sits on the wall

waiting for him to com by
even though she knows its a lie

Give me your worst comment, because the dead don't care

    I plan to revise this poem: please leave constructive criticism!
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