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Everything is a sugar coating of the truth.flavored with the tears of those who cry,tales told of fantasies most uncouth,where hopes and dreams lay to rest and die. Think of all the corruption we hold inside,but refuse to express of out of fear;Wh
Love is a four-letter word Accompanied by a hashtag before it And an idyllic image of feet and hands and sun and sand shortly after Love is a catchy little tune
What if reality is a fallacy, Perpetuated by affliction? Disillusionment just a deterrent For positive transition?   When all is lost, picking up
How can I focus How can I think of anything When all I want to do is think of you you you the feel of you in a t-shirt pressed against my chest Holding me close
l was raised as a cynic, The daughter of lies and hate. I was raised to acknowledge That love couldn't last. That people came But they always left. I witnessed,in my childhood,
I've tried to make sense of it all, but reasoning fails, which leaves me falling down again, to where I began to misunderstand this life.   If the only absolute is the knowledge that there's no truth,
i Want A nice Car A House so big i could get lost in it Money money     FIN
The only thing I'm slamming Is slamming out poetry As part of an incredibly cynical (and downright against the spirit  of the Poetry Slam) attempt to win $$$   FIN  
The email appeared in my inbox. "You have a new scholarship available," it said; I didn't want to write about a bunch of schlock, So I chose to be truthful instead. I really don't care much for poems,
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