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Poem 2 - Tiny DaggersWith their tiny daggersThey stab you over and over againThe first time, you don't hurtThe hundred time, a large wound has formedYou do not see, nor notice this woundUntil the onehundred and first time the stab youWith their tiny daggersThe pain of what you didn't know existedOverwhelms youI engulfs you until you cannot think nor speakYou can heal the wound butThey will be there once again to rip up the scarsTo make the pain devour you againYou seek aid and comfort with othersBut they do not see the dangerIn Tiny Little Daggers
Poem 1 - (No name)More than a hundred times,Will has stricken me,To run, to flee from society's chimes.But as soon as I see,The sun rise in the east,And the leaves dance in the trees,I know that at least,Nature is to please.