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Sometimes I wonder, if my lines, For Ulysses, Are chains, Instead of freedom, Closer to a siren, Then the angel I wish I was, My great poetry, A trap, Setting me up, To remember, A waste of time, Not that You are a waste, Oh great one, But my heart spends its energy on useless things, Add my mouth eats too much chocolate.
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Oct 11, 2014
Oct 11, 2014 at 3:38 PM UTC
A jail of poetry
Sometimes I wonder, if my lines, For Ulysses, Are chains, Instead of freedom, Closer to a siren, Then the angel I wish I was, My great poetry, A trap, Setting me up, To remember, A waste of time, Not that You are a waste, Oh great one, But my heart spends its energy on useless things, Add my mouth eats too much chocolate.
July 14, 2014
eva-schoolcraft
Written by
Oct 11, 2014
Oct 11, 2014 at 3:38 PM UTC
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