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Erk.
Poetry-The Bain....
The bain of my existance! I didn't grow up in the same time period as Poe, and the other great poets. I cannot learn the rhythm and rhyme that come so natural to them! My poetry flutters, like a butterfly in pain. Some cry as it dies, others kill it themselves out of pity, and some kill it out of cold blood.





 
 
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