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Dec 2019
The message from the harp embarks a sharp quest in the chest, the heart, I part to start tests soon to bless, this desolate, desperate deficit, make it exquisite, cleaning up the mess is requisite, make the best of it, long time gone but the song hits me real strong, put me on wrong, watch me yawn, at dawn the fawn like swans is calm, still knowing it faces danger, the fight-or-flight sight ain't strange, arranged anger, or fear, the tears may steer to my stress, time acts timeless when blind to ******, rewind back the raps to tap and see swirls, when I start to twirl, I hurled no free world, I'd see girls with curls and boys poise confused, a never straight response from cons that's abused, amused just to use and fuse to one heart, but knowing I would lose, I'd choose the blues harp.
Written by
Cyclone  22/M/Houston, TX
(22/M/Houston, TX)   
47
   Cyclone
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