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Poems
Nov 2017
โBilly, in one of his nice new sashes, Fell in the fire and was burnt to ashes: Now, although the room grows chilly, I haven't the heart to poke poor Billy.โ โ Harry Graham
My hair is departing from my scalp making me a balding, hair loser
so I'll be hitting the bottle harder than usual, just like a hobo ******
who's up nights ******-pimping 32 ***** because he ain't no snoozer
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หขโฑแตแตแตโฟแต แดฎแตแตแตแต, หขโฑโฟแตแตแตแตสณแต
(หขโฑแตแตแตโฟแต แดฎแตแตแตแต, หขโฑโฟแตแตแตแตสณแต)
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