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The Diary

A.C.T.


Used my crayons for painting horses
Pigs and monkeys, birds who's flying
All of this was quite accepted
But without their skin they were affected

Just turned eleven and now she's going on twelve
No one could see
She must be one in hundred millions
A mind so totally torn and wrecked, folks
What have you done with this poor girl?
You made her believe that nothing's sacred
Her conscience is lost

Voices tell me I am in need
To see the people in pain and to bleed
Psychiatrists they never say
A knife can kill and now she is dead

Just turned eleven and nos she's going on twelve
No one could see
She must be one in hundred millions
A mind so totally torn and wrecked, folks
What have you done with this poor girl?
You made her believe that nothing's scared
Her conscience is lost

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