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Mar 2012
My words are rich, take em as food for thought,
Poetry that's gleaming, I can never get enough.
Going crazy on a mind trip, off, out on a quest,
Calm and collected on the surface, but I'm a mess,
on the inside, I'm still crooning so loudly,
Yea, I'm freaking weird but I say it so proudly,
Grew into a man from a little sonny boy,
who used to play with dinosaurs and other funny toys.
I found my snow white, we fit like hands and gloves,
and winter and jackets, and happiness and love.
Jonathan Fernandez
Written by
Jonathan Fernandez
568
 
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