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Oct 2012
No arms,
No love,
No hands to call a cab.
Back home,
Sighing to myself,
I notice one leg is too short,
OCD kicks in,
I eat my legs.
Now it's even,
But what is the point of a body as useless as mine?
So I jumped in the road,
To release the tortured sole inside.
More fragmented poetry from the phone.
Wuji
Written by
Wuji
694
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