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A martyr of the world, it is my place
tis the was i was born, prefallen from grace
i live till i die, it is as simpal as that
given and taken, walked on as a mat
i am use, that is true
use so mutch now
holes start to run threw
i have cryed all my tears and
yelled all my pain
and now in the hinsight
i was never the same
till death do i part
my jobe never done
and now you know me
isent it fun

Im a starting poute and i dont know how to wright well. I wright what i feel at the time and sing most of my poums. the always seem a littal depresing to me and i wounder what you will think of them. i have lived a happy life (ish) so i dont know where they comefrom, but i need to get them out befor time repets itself. you dont haph to read them, you dont have to coment, i dont hope for recognishion, only to be heard, evan if only by the def at heart. i shall remail silent no more