I remember the used, <br />The ones abused, <br />Beaten to depression, <br />Tears of pain, <br />Lost in confusion, <br />A world black of hate. <br /> <br />Crying tunes of hate, <br />The minds of the used, <br />Now filled with confusion, <br />Their lives abused, <br />A state of pain, <br />The chain of depression, <br /> <br />The memories of depression, <br />The faces of hate, <br />Weighed down by pain, <br />Beaten and used, <br />The ones abused, <br />lost in confusion. <br /> <br />The label of confusion, <br />On a plate of depression, <br />Given to those abused, <br />The planted seeds of hate, <br />A bush beaten and used, <br />The thorns of pain. <br /> <br />An orchestra of pain, <br />With notes of confusion, <br />A song called used, <br />Interments of depression, <br />Plays tunes of hate, <br />To those abused. <br /> <br />This me world abused, <br />My life a world of pain, <br />Memories of hate, <br />The smell of confusion, <br />The darkness of my depression, <br />A life used. <br /> <br />The path for the used and abused, <br />Confusion of those in depression, <br />The hate caused by pain.<br /><br />Eric Adams<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/i-remember-the-used/
