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Feb 2021
I hate everything.
It hates me to.
Forlorn hope for?
Nothing returned.
I hate the public.
Their children aswell.
I hate the bus stops.
The filth passing by.
I hate it all.
Hatred haywired.
Call me a cyborg.
But truth hurts aswell.
Maniacal Escape
Written by
Maniacal Escape  30/M/lancashire
(30/M/lancashire)   
102
 
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