Art is dead. Poor Art. Poor Art's kids and wife. Art, you will be missed.
Haha i tricked you, didn't i? You thought this was gonna be one of those poems but nope. Don't worry guys, I'll write something serious after finals are done.
I write for me not for you, not for him, but for me - to feel well to be emotionally settled and let things out because once it's done on paper I feel like this weight of the world is off and I am free
every word in this poem rhymes if you use your imagination you can fly high in the sky if you use your imagination you will become king of the world if you use your imagination you can fly to mars and beyond if you use your imagination if these things actually happened to you you were on drugs and they werent real
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