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Sep 21
The tongue is a rudder
Its words are like fire
Sparking imagination, spreading

Rumours cut
deeper than knives
Ruining lives

Label attached
Like a parasite
Staining the white

No one will touch
A leprous man
What hope for such?

The fool walks about
Pointing the finger
Exposing another

What will he do
when he is stripped from power
and stands fore his maker?
Written by
SleepEasy
50
   Man and Weeping willow
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