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Does it feel like nothing?
The underdog from cream of the crop
To the basis of the loser
Open your eyes
The crops will grow and sell
Under the dog is the dirt
The foundation
The giver
Prop the desired in essence
And give life to life of desirability
The source of what we want
Is the loss we give no credit
Tell me another
Love like simple infection
Tempted with tales of happiness
And told like stories of deception
I have met someone new
And answer to the unsolved equation
Do they make me feel loved?
Deceived, I love like the abandoned one
Is it punishment
To serve or to die
Hide from the reality
In house we built to make us cry
Dare I say, lost
Confused even
Hemorrhaging at the directions
I know which way is north
But not where life is going
No map can plan that course
Charting maps with alacrity
Set sail as Magellan
Yet land with such insipid wording
That the book of tales I pen is a thesaurus of fabrication
Destiny come to those who run
Outlive your ending or see it undone
Pray it be simple to accept
Or die living as the inept
Just what am I meant to be?
Hands on the piano
Brush on the canvas
Voice on the microphone
Hands on the papers

But do I stop there
Or is talent channeled forward?

Why stop at destiny
When I define it?
What is incompetence
But ramblings of the confused
Speak ages of misery
In misdemeanors of agony
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