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Poem: i

The capitalization got fucked up. I ventured into another arena trying to make sense of my gladiatorial resemble with the mighty pen of Herculues and Athena. 

I wanted to move southwards 
Me was north. I stopped myself. 
I stopped myself again. 

The fairy was looking
Towards the king
Oh! My wings wings 
Silenced by the fucking 

Matured angels looked awkward 
Straightforward but awkward. 
Easter came, with bombs on display. 
Every grass and leaf was colorless and in dismay. 

"Did you see, what I see?"
Diese grammar rules and my 
Fucking language learning 
Langsam but learning. 

The Japanese school girls, 
Those Japanese boys, 
Bronzed into their accursed ways. 
              VICE I'm not playing anymore. 
               FOX is a whore. 
And too dipshit thick is sickeningly 
Long. The day will end. 
And I will not second it. 

Mr. Pickles you are amazing. 
The world is yours 666 written 
In your soul. Everything was, 
                    Everything is, 
                    Everything will remain accursed. 

No, you cannot turn twice to 
See what's on the other side. 
I wrote and I wrote and I write to 
See if that's all we make of life. 

The stars, the nebula and this very moment 
The scent
The scent of two tyres and 
Two more wires. 

I cannot do it. 
I cannot do it today or tomorrow or any 
Other day anymore. 

You win. Take the bet and take my money. Leave me alone. You fucking bastard bitch of a cunt head whore. 

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Poem: i


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