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Jul 2019
Smoke filled has wings that you can't see,
Inside it are things which one can't be.
Sin eyed are those rings which made those kings,
Though lark sings, his feathers are tin dyed strings.
An aspirin down the throat but body is about to float,
On the life's offshore boat how many souls are gonna float,
I don't wear this high collar coat to stay in the rain and see a lightning bolt.
Those graveyards I visit, strange graves say please sit,
I didn't eat a bit or took a bite after I say that ****** site.
That fight between the thoughts of same brain,
It gave me some sort of migraine.
Does hope has to refrain it must be high on *******.
No lithium in my blood I think I might make a mistake,
As long as people believe in Noah and the flood,
There is gonna be more blood.
Fate has burned me on top of a tesla coil, wrapped inside a tin foil,
And you tell me why does my blood boil.
My hope is no longer a seed spilt on soil.
Caien Musharraf
Written by
Caien Musharraf  22/M/An excellent question
(22/M/An excellent question)   
503
     S Olson, Fawn and Bogdan Dragos
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