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The Devils' High
The mind is starving,
starting, stopping.
Nothing is written to what is thought in between my skin, my white skin
Dull, empty and becoming wronged
Wronged why?
Wrong to the eye
that black pupil
that hole
It see's what it wants!
Allowing dangerous things to pass the electric fence
If the wires were turned on
If the buzz became louder
I would not be so devoid
I would not cry so often
Letting the devils' drink make my eyes burn!
one drink maybe two of that green stuff,
And I'll become invincible
Because my enemies have had enough.
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