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So let me raise a toast to the girl I love the most, in the whole world Let me find a thing, that I don't think To be mine, the thing that i think
Spinning servitude melancholy beatitudes Covered in silver cloaked in blue choked on  a sausage the grist mill will take you
I love you, But I hate this game, I want you to still love me, But I'm tired of feeling this shame,
"What is left?” I see you, old f(r)iend It was about time I came back again I am crawling on my knees Begging and pleading for you to love me   Please, I need you My sweetest     amor
I stand a destitute And my lungs scream out To call upon my aide To seize my unruly ire As it not ever abetted me But gratify me With posy of endowmwents And floored dosh
one sense triggers another, and so they create   silky songs from a young tailor that sound smooth and strong and caress like a savior-
 Writing, the power that masters the beast That turns into something easy to caress Into a bliss of doubt Of fondness, just like love.
Cinderella was a shy girl Battered down under her step-mothers thumb To afraid to speak up Feeling trapped and hopeless
years of my life viewing Washington Blvd. from a car- a sweaty bear upon the bathroom that I drew murals upon uninvasive species propogated for nothing
I greet the man at the counter   "A glass of gladness please."   He stares at me funny   "Do you not have that one? Ah, then I'll have a cup of cheer."   Still skeptical  
I saw,I heard But did I react?No  I want stood  watch carelessly knowing that you said words of envy
Don't worry- you weren't the only one who thought it was, "And to the Rep
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