Prison seems warm
A place like getting stuck in a mental dream
Of a stranger with no blessed thought
You could be lost in a thought
Or been working on those instincts
We still need you
Somehow time changes how you look at the terrain trenchantly
There's no reason for changing your whereabouts
THere's no nee3d for singing songs if you have good remand
With the positive strain of force, he rests his hand
On The quill
There is an armor around him
Of rattle and pens.
A novel achievement
There is an established county
He isn't a fiction
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