Right under your nose

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There it was

As pretty as luck

would have it,

I was looking around

the room

And there it was

On top of the mattress,

How can I fasid

The mind of the bastard

Who’s opinion has often

Re mastered,

Beliefs of old

With current event

Trickle effecting daggers,

Drunk

With a stagger,

That is often confused

For some type of swagger,

But even with
encouragement

I can still
Hardly handle,

This panic attack

That more often
Times than not
wants to dismantle,

The ego

That gets

Even badder,

With every conquest

And every lasso,

Hoping

That someone will listen

And pray

To knock down the
My inner towers
Of babel,

Causing

This competition

Making
My heart tired
And Even sadder,

With Love

Farther

And
Further
Away

My soul

It battles,

But love
No matter
How mistreated
Bruised And battered,

Heals
On its own

With ignorance
For a clone

And other crazy
semantics!

  1. Sometimes love is unwilling to given in…even when we are.

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