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Disregard

Oh to you

as the queen of the swine.

The lump that you left me has

settled its mine.

No further with purpose

its bottom at last. It rests now on top

of debris from its path. Having only ever

needed just a sign of remorse. You knew

that already only prolonging the course.

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c
Written by
chad-roberts
American
Published
Mar 17, 2010
Lines·Words
9·54
Permission

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