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Rated: E · Other · Fantasy · #1703597
A poem i like to call my shakespeare replica
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Keys of hatred lie in piles

Scattered amongst the floor

Friends throughout millions of doors

Made for simple sadness and misery

Does this shallow evil wait

To snatch up love and wonder

To poison all of fate

Take away the magic

Happiness never more

To cruelly punish things

That were kind enough

Holding open all those doors

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