I did not have a plan Engrave that on my fucking gravestone one hundred years from now I'm not going anywhere!
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"Oh, she may be weary And young girls, they do get wearied Wearing that same old shaggy dress, yeah, yeah But when she gets weary Try a little tenderness, yeah yeah”*
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Sometimes I fill the air with the language in my head- With words that are not my own but that were borrowed…
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I wrote this poem today (in one hour) can you
