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by
Eliot
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Thead
Poems
Dec 2019
Suffering in my mind
To think my words have meaning
is more pretentious than the word itself.
To think of all my dreaming,
coming true would be a living hell.
To think of all my scheming,
will make me happy, great and true.
To think of all my thinking,
makes me feel the ******* blues.
Written by
Thead
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