Sometimes I just don't know
and it's hard for me say
exactly what it is
that makes me feel a certain way
with everyday that passes
it all starts to seem the same
and I can't help but feel
that I am no one to name
nothing new
just pain in fact
that I can't get rid of
and that's just that
I stare at my hands
what are the good for
for nothing but rubber-bands
all these little scratches
that look innocent at glance
all trying to be treated
-Anna (mi amiga)
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