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GauntsGambit
Poems
Dec 2012
The Uncontrolled, A Sound Defeat
Oh, what crime? Twas this;
upon your loneliness you spake,
of how your heart needs gauze miss
and your soul calls like a choughβs quake.
No ample dispatch
has ever jolted you to the core.
Only the nitty-gritty mismatch
inside your first floor.
Dear strangers.. go easy
Written by
GauntsGambit
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