the colors are all wrong
and the wind blows from within
wreaking havoc on my heart
and the spaces in between
indecision
in utero
in decisive
improper
the plaything decides not to play back
the future looks dark indeed
the decisions of our forefathers weigh
on minds devoid of conscious thought
the bruises hide well
the evidence of hatred and sin
wreaking havoc on my life
and the relationships within
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