brutal
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Why do I feel distressed?
For my opulence,
Luxury or success.
Look, I did nothing wrong
I was born,
A cumbersome, catatonic existence can burn at my handsand I'll keep the torch with me, an old friend caught between young palms,ash and emotion make me stand:
Stop! Drop! And Roll! No, that doesn't work for me. I drop, bundle and fall as other start to kick me.Their shoes scratch my head and leave marks on my arms. I dress myelf in long sleeves so that no one can see my harms.
