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Jun 2013
What a spell that fiend casted over me
How I would like to flee from his odd embrace
If I did he would just chase
So I choose to sit
Sit and play his little game
He is to blame
Blame for my werid love
That I shoved out
From the deepest darkest parts of my soul
His twisted ideas roll of my tongue
Like I perceived them
Like there my own
I’m warped
Please don’t think less of me
I had to work with what I had!
Now dad, please let go of me
Tana Young
Written by
Tana Young  26/Colorado
(26/Colorado)   
462
   Timothy
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