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Image for the poem If you not one of mine:  Fuck you.

If you not one of mine:  Fuck you.

Ive become
a killer who talks pleasantly: Just like my archetypes.

Born with
a
good heart
in a bad world.

Held
on
to
the beauty, waving
in
pennants

soothe saying my abstract penance, lulling the madness.

Madness,
what do you know about madness?  I know quite a bit.

Climbed
up

out of a world

of

shit.

With a middle finger buffet.
Written by Cipher_O (WarlordoftheWrittenWord)
Published
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