The Art of BrainwashA Poem by Y.F.Tell me why when I cry the tears never seem to dry? I don't want to feel like I'm the only one. Closed my mind, stood behind, they've led me as if I'm blind - everything I ever did has been undone.
My existence has always fall on deaf ears. My resistance, it slowly disappears.
What have I done? What have I done? Who's that man with the smoking gun? That's not me. That's not me. That's not what I really see. © 2008 Y.F.Author's Note
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