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The Pit

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Empty, abandoned no-one needs me.
But they do.
I give them everything, they just need to dig deeper,
The life here is one, I didn’t mean to make them go away.
The scars hurt but it’s okay just to feel the stomping of the men’s feet in my soft layer of skin,
I wanted them to stay, but the machinery took over the jobs, the green, the air,
All the friendship has disappeared, been replaced with pain,
The thriving crib huts gone.
Sand slides too dangerous, knowing of death risen,
Wheels turning, pickaxes pounding, the sounds were comforting.
But now machinery running fills the memory with hatred,
I’m doomed to eternal sleep with no friends, no love just work,
I tell myself no more death, no more gloominess, no more clay.

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