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Oct 2020
You are,
You are,
Quite frankly
Subpar.

Your words meander and diverge
Till they mean nothing

You and your energy walk in the room
And the walls wilt somehow,
The air defies nature's laws and recoils.
Mould spores attempt escape.

Your lack of self awareness, your ego,
Is an oozing cancerous lump atop your nose
And not one of us can look away.

No volume of bile could digest
The orange fat of your arrogance

You are,
You are,
A killjoy,
A **** on the dancefloor.
Spicy Digits
Written by
Spicy Digits  35/F/Australia
(35/F/Australia)   
226
 
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