WELL AS WELL
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how will i father a minion worth the bother of keeping my glut? or will i falter and never reach the alter where fate is unplugged? am i worth consideration or the plausible elation that comes biting tongues? or will it always be a secret? fine, go ahead and keep it, i've got some of my own.
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look at that kid, no son of mine. he wreaks of pain and guilt soaked up and stained in his eyes that he cleans with 'serpentine'.
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rays in his mouth, he'll sunburn. graze where it is hot. burns his throat, will he spit fire or will he learn to stop?
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i can't calm down or sit back and watch you struggle, but i can just give up on myself. i'll carry the heavy load on my shoulders for a pat on the back, or a star on your flag, or just be vocal.
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it's what it is when it's defined, and goes down smooth with a glass of grime. the conscience shifts to mark the times. nobody's to blame, if they cover their eyes and act surprised.
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will i father a son? tell me how he will be. will he fall in traps that i have set & placed & scattered all around me? will he reach with his arms? will he pull up his sleeves? have i scared him from work & love & friendship & success that's always avoided me? is it my fault? am i sick, or sick in me? we've all got our own disease. i'm as well as well as i can be.
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Well As Well
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Before Braille |