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My words form a humble abode only if the words would form when prose words crave to expand when exposed I never grant them the ability to unload They complex to lyrical nonsense Ravage my identity towards confidence knows nothing about prudence they insist upon clairvoyance Words manipulate to suffice although I contort them to be precise they matriculate to my vice We both only want to be concise
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Oct 27, 2012
Oct 27, 2012 at 7:07 PM UTC
For the Words
My words form a humble abode only if the words would form when prose words crave to expand when exposed I never grant them the ability to unload They complex to lyrical nonsense Ravage my identity towards confidence knows nothing about prudence they insist upon clairvoyance Words manipulate to suffice although I contort them to be precise they matriculate to my vice We both only want to be concise
I shall only see what my mind can handle and my words are only what I am right now. Teen.
Penguin
Written by
32/American
Oct 27, 2012
Oct 27, 2012 at 7:07 PM UTC
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