Disclaimer: none of this stuff is mine. The actual poem is though. Yay.

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Who am I to say what is right?
Who are you to say what is wrong?
The two of us together,
It is up to us to decide.
Is now the chance the world has waited for?
Does it all depend on us?
If the choice we make is wrong
What will they say?

They tell us it's just a game
But is it really a game anymore?
They say, "Just one more test."
But really, how many more?
Why should I trust you?
Why should I believe you?
All you ever told me was a lie.
And now that all depends on me
You beg as if you speak the truth.

When I was six I thought you a friend.
Now at twelve I know better once again.
All those years in between
I thought that you where cruel and mean
When it is comes down in the end
All those years, you really were my friend
Right now I cannot see the truth
Blinded by all the emptiness inside.

My family, the one I left behind
You sought help form them
You used the only one I truly love
I thought it no possible
For her to help my enemy
After our dealings with the slum-bitch
You used my love; crushed it down
With forced writings of pain and anger

Once I was in your hands
You put me through hell with no concern
When a boy tried to kill me, you looked the other way
You turned us all against each other
Made us into foes, now the truth is out
And everybody knows,
It is not the others who are the adversary
It is you who is the enemy.

Now how will it end?
Sitting here not knowing
What is truly going to happen?
One day I will look back
And the anger will well up at you inside
My hands blood stained will trillions of deaths
Because of you and your lies
I forget who I am.

Waiting yet wanting but still not knowing
This is because of you.
There is nowhere to turn, nowhere to hide
But a voice whispers in my ear
And suddenly its there, I know.
I get them killed, and I murder them all,
They are gone, and we have triumphed
But a part of me still asks, "Why?"

I am a genius they say
I have saved them all
But not one mentions who I really am.
What I really am.
I am a child of twelve. Tortured.
With trillions of murders on my hand
I am the greatest being in history
I am the Xenocide.

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Wow, that was a pretty long poem. There might eventually be more. R&R
please!!! I might continue if you want me to...........