My conversation with myself today:
A misfit of genres.
A petty pencil-mongerer.
It is I, who speaks to you
look behind these lines, fool:
Can you not see?
I am imprisoned by rhymes
and cannot be free.
A misfit of genres.
A petty pencil-mongerer.
It is I, who speaks to you
look behind these lines, fool:
Can you not see?
I am imprisoned by rhymes
and cannot be free.
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