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I can't write

So I'll bake and read and hope

Dried up. Go for it.

I don't have a subject, the subject.

You've got you but don't flower it up.


I guess it didn't want me.

Put me on the brink of death

Let me rise out

Dissapointed, no,

trenched with disappointment

That my attempt failed

But presented with euphoric pearls

Justice has been served

Just not in my favor.


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