Poetry is what surrounds you, the air you breath, the the golden sunset you see, the chirping birds you hear, yet the wind that blows off your clothes such that we see your naked mind.
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On her shadow Her face is different, alert and more mature She's a strong sire for sure From where the bud I'm first ...
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They heaved me up in a dank cell They tortured me, squeezed my eyes Oh God it was hell My only crime being drank and disorderly Along Ko...
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