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a Sep 2018
I feel cold, lost , and in a daze
whenever you speak
I wish it was just a faze
But the **** I just smoked
fades away into oblivion
Once at a good cloud 99
then you let out this storm
and my wings start to break
crashing down to cloud -9
but thats just the start of it
you continue these winds to knock me down
I've shot through, landed
on the hard white cement,
struck, motionless, razed.
This is what happens whenever you speak.
Dear Dirk,
Still got hope for ya though.

— The End —