

The Broken AngelAs god created his angels one broke the mould, she plumeted to the deep dsepths of earth to live a life of sorrow, why must it be me, she thinks as she wonders the streets with nowhere to go, why must i be the opne who must be blamed by the almighty lord, if it is i who is in the wrong, if iam the one who is broken, then why am i not dead, why am i left to suffer alone, can someone not save me, bring me back to the heavens to become a normal girl again....The Broken Angel
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Friends are priceless, but twats are dispensable
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Friends are priceless, but twats are dispensable
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nothing says "i miss you" quite like poetry carved in your door with my stanley knife.
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