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At my Age, to gaze at this Crumbling Glass Must content me to say when to let-go Of my Battles, that of Mum's Great Compass Swore her Tears to what I already know I guess that Vision, mirage as it is And bake the Dough whose Bread I un-consume With your Dust - suave - charm the Summer Belles since Fan Frosted Wings faster than I could fume What happens now? In this doomed, ****** Script Must force me to tear-off my Snowy Mask Painful my pores feel; My Heart goes to crypt Then deny the Tender I so Long ask. When Right is Wrong and Wrong seems all but Right, Throw punches to a Face I could not fight.
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Mar 13, 2013
Mar 13, 2013 at 3:32 AM UTC
SONNET TRIBUTE SUNDRY - EIGHTY-TWO - TOM DALEY
At my Age, to gaze at this Crumbling Glass Must content me to say when to let-go Of my Battles, that of Mum's Great Compass Swore her Tears to what I already know I guess that Vision, mirage as it is And bake the Dough whose Bread I un-consume With your Dust - suave - charm the Summer Belles since Fan Frosted Wings faster than I could fume What happens now? In this doomed, ****** Script Must force me to tear-off my Snowy Mask Painful my pores feel; My Heart goes to crypt Then deny the Tender I so Long ask. When Right is Wrong and Wrong seems all but Right, Throw punches to a Face I could not fight.
#tomdaleytv #tomdaley1994
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Mar 13, 2013
Mar 13, 2013 at 3:32 AM UTC
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