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Oct 2018
Wave your **** eye-roll, salute my attempt at least. We can no longer please; perhaps we never have. I’ll hold up, to when we next meet; I’ll shake your hand. I’ll be waiting for you, myself, when I used to be able to command the man. The man with no new qualifications, other than to displease. Hold your judgement please, lord. You're biting to hard, with your golden teeth.
God hurts
James
Written by
James  22/M
(22/M)   
206
     Fawn and ---
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