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Back Stabber

You murdered me likely,
stole away everything I possessed.
And now its vanished into the wind.
How does it make you feel?
You don't have a slightest thought.
My silence will anger you,
perhaps drawing wrath.
But I stand engraved in my place.
And nothing can break my confidence.
You may scorn and scream.
But there I will still remain,
not a word will exalt from my throat.
Eventually you'll stare,
and the voice will then cease.
But my heart and my words are my own.
You'll learn that I'm noble.
I don't need a friend.
I stand up upon what must be done.
The world is my opponent.
You can scream in my face,
but all that displays is a grin.
And as I will turn,
you'll be shocked to learn,
that there is no wound in my back.

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