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Poetic Diction
Truth is,
I chose a pen over ropes and blades
I'm a broken soul adorned
with scars that negate to fade
I be grinning though in agony
A total stranger to harmony
I'm accustomed to pain...
I chose a pen over ropes and blades
I'm a broken soul adorned
with scars that negate to fade
I be grinning though in agony
A total stranger to harmony
I'm accustomed to pain...
