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Me and the guys
The writer and I
For he is I
I don’t write
I am just an author
I write at nighttime, during the day
In the fog, in a haze
For maybe He is I
And I to be
To look in his mind
To open mine and see
To look through these glasses
Still never to see
To find time in truth
Of the tongues lies and disease
The reeking breath
Of foul temper and tactics
Wanting not to be seen
I am Him he is I
The writer and the poet
Next to the author’s side.
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