i will be forgotten

i just wanted to yell

i have stories to tell

i have stories to tell

but they are blind

i live with myself

i have stories to tell

i have memories of hell

i am dying

the sun will come up

there’ll be seasons to smell

there’ll be moments to dwell

i’ll be fine

the clocks will turn twelve

i’ll be waiting for help

they will not ring the bells

i’ll survive

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