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Copies

Printer sits in space, Someone hit print to much. Copies of people spew out, True people loose touch. Put on your North Face, Slip on your UGGs. Flirt with every fucking person, Make fun of what you call bugs. Coolest kid right? Makes fun of those he doesn't get. Threatens with violent words, He'll get his way I bet. A copy of a copy, Popular in a house of mirrors. Showing feelings isn't cool, Mock the pioneers.   Hate those copies, Want them erased. I'll go and break the printer, That produces them in space.
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Written by
Wuji
American
For You?
Written by
Wuji
American
Published
Apr 5, 2012
Lines·Words
24·94
Notes

I am not a copy.

Permission

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