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You went out with gold Interlaced hands Corrupted in silver Always the "I can" Yet pay you shall not Nor pour upon our door The weakened parable Of completed floor The doors shall await Poor babe, lonesomes sake Deserving oppression Masking your heart
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Feb 18
Feb 18, 2026 at 5:02 PM UTC
Your Own Trapped You
You went out with gold Interlaced hands Corrupted in silver Always the "I can" Yet pay you shall not Nor pour upon our door The weakened parable Of completed floor The doors shall await Poor babe, lonesomes sake Deserving oppression Masking your heart
Written by
44/M/california
Feb 18
Feb 18, 2026 at 5:02 PM UTC
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