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Jul 2020
Dare enter to thy miserable life!
See the nothing inside my dying brain.
I was a poet once before the strife,
it was hell to watch it destroy my train.

Now every word sounds like it is a joke,
there is no plot inside this teeming home.
I do not want to watch you fall and choke,
but it is hard when you read me your tome.

I hope you enjoy bullying your son,
because this is the last you'll see of him.
I made him go quite crazy so he'll run.
I control all the words that come from them.

So until he becomes one who can't sleep,
I will make him see me and want to weep.
Written by
Patrick Harrison  18/M/Chicago
(18/M/Chicago)   
65
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