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May 2019
I would despise to summarize your summer eyes,
The perceptive, deceptive, gate way to your lies,
This time I rhyme about hot fumes that are in bloom,
I've been blocked, the room is locked, hotboxed and I cry.
Days and days, depressive ways, unconsciousness grew,
Star gazing, rage is blazing and I wish I knew,
How to get up far away from suicide cars...
I meant I'm sitting on cement and then there's you.
Make amends with old guy friends, that former sugar daddy,
Reconcile for a while with people that made you happy,
Whether that be Heather, Kobe, Joe or even Maddy.
Slowly bracing myself to leave your sweet embrace,
If I put on a mask and asked for a kiss, would you give me one last taste?
A disappointed disgrace, memories replaced,
With every waking moment you were baking... what a waste.
A waste of time and a waste of rhymes,
A waste of trying to change you into something you will never be,
A complete waste of my energy.
Sketcher
Written by
Sketcher  18/M/Blaine, Washington
(18/M/Blaine, Washington)   
107
     Fawn and Sketcher
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