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RRaaccoonn
Poems
Jun 2015
The Curse of The Miser's Thirst.
There's a tower in the east w'th a wall of gold.
There's a beast in the tower whom guards his fold.
The Miser brays at who goes near.
When he gifts he dreads despair.
Unfortunate you keep the gift.
For the gift is cursed w'th miser's thirst.
#poem
Written by
RRaaccoonn
Las Vegas
(Las Vegas)
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812
SΓΈuΕSurvivΓΈr
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South by Southwest
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