Stranglehold

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"I could tell you a story or maybe i'll lay down my words like a puzzle so you make a tale out of it. That way, we may have a thousand stories from a few words..."-Constino


You're here thinking he won't let you go

What if i told you; you was gold

Don't sell thyself it's a metaphor

You'll need your soul when the heavens call

And that's something worth waiting for

It's pretty dark & you feel those hands

Around your neck they're pressing hard

Your favourite colour rhymes with dead

Good or bad, they'll bleed in red

For all your crimes you got a necklace

How you got caught? Your sin was careless

But do not worry, your saviour got you

On toes you tip, you are getting colder

Your life in story begins to fold

An inch taller, you would survive

You weren't happy while you were alive

It's too late to flee the stranglehold


Hello! I originally wanted to post this poem in 'BLEEDING FEET' because in my view it's a bit dark. But then i realised that you might get a different vibe off it so here it is. Thanks for your time, have a great day

-Constino


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