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Rated: ASR · Prose · Reference · #1442737
It's just some freaking, prose.
I'm pretty in pink you're
Sitting recluse
We're feeling so fine that,
We take off our boots.
Now as the clock strikes,
Let's listen to it
And do as is commanded,
Without second opinion
The time is over now, it seems it has passed
It's eleven fifteen now, and time for these tests
I guess,
whatever,
who cares.
We're all doing so fine that,
We have no need to advance,
It's worthless in trying
Let someone else do it,
No-one yet knows, so,
It must not exist,
Now get to work.
With these things that don't matter
Aptitudes with apathy
The devils in the kitchen
So, watch your food.
The illness can't kill you
You are your mind
SO first it must kill you.




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