They forced you to walk, when yours legs where shy.
They try to make you talk, when your throat was too dry.
You learned from the top, by simply going down again.
Following an old pen and lots of ink.
If there's pain on writing, there shure is pain in reading.
That's what I discovered, when I recognized feelings.
You wrote down notes from a tortured
mind, that was only stable on paper, paper.
Clean white paper.
August, I never could see a
connection between the hammer and the nail.
Now I know they both get hurt ...
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