You told me
whispers in my ears,
repeated
like beads of a prayer;
"You are a gifted a child."
__
Now I rot
where I was crowned,
half-alive
in hallowed ground,
watching through
the stained glass glow
all the colors
I cannot know.
It's grey and blue
this world of mine,
purple bruises
branded since nine.
#scribble
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