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my pen is crying againweak and full of ragetoo scared to make a rightous standhe weeps upon this pageshamed and full of loathingpetrified is hemuch too condescendingfor a simple man like meI laugh inspite of insultsdon the mask of gleemy pen is homicidalbut i assure you its not meflashes of familiargone before you blinklies weigh upon my shoulderbut the truth is in the ink
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