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Archer
Poems
Jan 17
Opportune
The tyrannical wrath,
floats on the surface,
gasoline on the water.
The judging emotions,
a flurry whipped up,
big and heavy,
as they hit me in the face.
Cry the pain out.
Everything I touch,
turns to lead.
Poisonous dead weight.
Written by
Archer
38/M/Near Toronto
(38/M/Near Toronto)
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Hakikur Rahman
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